


Call Me When You're Home

by LemonSupreme, romeokijai



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Bass is a sexy architect, Charlie and Connor are in college, Christmas fic, F/M, Lemon and Romeo Collab fic, Now Featuring Actual Smut!, Platonic Charlett, Snow, Winter, no blackout au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonSupreme/pseuds/LemonSupreme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/romeokijai/pseuds/romeokijai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Matheson is a senior at the University of Chicago and had plans to go home for Christmas. But when a terrible snowstorm moves through her hometown, her plans involuntarily change. She is disappointed about missing the holidays with her family and skeptical of her new plans: spending Christmas at her friend Connor's house with just him and his dad. But then she meets Connor's dad. Bass Monroe is sexy, single, and goes out of his way to make Charlie feel welcome in their home. And after spending some time with him, Charlie decides that maybe this Christmas won't be so bad after all.</p><p>No Blackout AU. Charloe. [COMPLETE]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the song 'Call Me When You're Home' by Derik Nelson.

****

**A/N: Here it is, folks! The first chapter of the very first ever collaboration by LemonSupreme & romeokijai! :D We are so excited to share this story with you. We're having a lot of fun working on it and hope you enjoy reading it. And we wish all of you a very Merry Christmas!**

 

Charlie Matheson rolls her eyes. She’s been doing a lot of that for the past ten minutes while she stands in the middle of her dorm room, cell phone stuck to her ear, listening to her mother drone on about the terrible snowstorm that has recently hit their hometown of Appleton, Wisconsin. Something about the Interstate 90 being closed and alternate routes being out of the question and if only they’d bought Charlie a better car because that damn little Volkswagen just won’t do in this blizzard and….

Charlie sighs and glances out her window. The skies are a murky, grayish white and it’s snowing, sure, but only lightly - nothing at all like what Rachel is describing. Then again, this is Chicago. Maybe the storm hasn’t moved this far south yet, and who knows if it even will?

“…so, we think it’s best if you stay in Chicago over break,” Rachel concludes.

The finality in her mother’s voice causes Charlie to freeze for a moment. Then a puff of appalled laughter leaves her lips. “You’re joking right?”

“No, Sweetie. Your dad and I have been checking the weather reports all afternoon; the roads are getting worse by the minute. We want you home but aren’t willing to risk your safety for one get together.”

“Mom! This isn’t just _some_ get together. We’re talking about Christmas! I don’t care how shitty the roads are, I’m coming home.”

“Charlie.”

“It’s not open for debate. I’m coming home.”

 _“Listen to your mother, Charlie.”_ She hears her dad’s stern voice in the background.

She rolls her eyes yet again. “What about Danny? Is he stranded in New York? Will you guys have to spend Christmas by yourselves?”

Rachel is quiet for a moment, which causes Charlie to frown.

“Actually, we talked to him yesterday,” Rachel admits. “He was able to change his flight in time. Got in about an hour ago.”

“Of course he did,” Charlie groans, pushing her fingers through her hair.

“Is there someone you can crash with for the week? So you’re not stuck in the dorms all by yourself on Christmas?”

“Don’t know. But I’ll figure something out, I guess.” She tries not to sound too bitter as she glances around her room, warily eyeing the box of Top Ramen that sits on her bookshelf. She grimaces at the thought of _that_ being her Christmas dinner. “Anyway, I should go. Tell Dad and Danny I’ll miss them.”

“Okay. Sorry you won’t be able to join us, Honey.” Rachel sounds sad. “Trust me, this isn’t how we wanted things to go.”

“Yeah, well....”

“Call if you need anything?”

“Sure. Bye, Mom.”

“Bye, Charlie.”

Charlie ends the call and flops down on her bed with a sigh. Great. Just great.

Outside her door, she can hear some of her neighbors chatting, excitement evident in their voices as they discuss their winter break plans. Most of them mention home cooked meals and comfortable beds and holiday traditions with their families.

Damn Wisconsin winters, Charlie mentally grumbles as she thinks about missing Christmas with her family. She was especially excited about seeing her little brother, whom she hasn’t seen in months. Between the craziness of school and living in two different cities, the communication lately between the two siblings has been sparse.

Maybe the storm will calm down by tomorrow or so, Charlie hopes as she pulls up the latest Appleton weather report on her phone. But her hopes are quickly dashed, and she frowns when she reads about the high speed winds and continued snowfall that’s supposed to move through the area in the coming days.

She’s still staring at her phone when someone knocks on her door.

“It’s open,” she calls, sitting up.

Connor Bennett, her Resident Assistant, cracks open the door and pokes his head inside. His face lights up with a bright smile when he sees her. “Hey, Charlie.”

“Hi, Connor. What’s up?”

“I’m just reminding everyone on the floor that the res hall closes at 6. And I’ll be doing room inspections in about an hour or so.”

“Yeah, about that….”

Charlie’s sour expression gets Connor’s attention. He opens the door a little further and gives her a questioning look.

She sighs. “I just talked to my mom. Apparently, it’s snowing really bad in Wisconsin and my parents are freaking out and don’t want me driving home in the blizzard.”  

“Uh…okay?”

“So…I think I’m just going to stay here. Over break.”

Connor raises both eyebrows at her. “Uh, no. You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the res hall won’t be open. Along with the dining hall and most other campus services. They don’t let people stay here over break unless it’s been prearranged with the Housing Office.”

“Okay. Well, you’re my R.A. Talk to Housing for me?”

“Charlie.” Connor frowns.

“What? You think I want to be stuck here over winter break?”

Connor exhales an exasperated breath and rakes his fingers through his dark brown curls. “Look. Your situation sucks, I get it. And I feel for you. I really do. But you can’t stay here.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly have a lot of other options?”

“Stay with a friend?”

“Most people - or at least anyone I would have considered going home with - are already gone.”

“What about Jason?”

“Neville?!”

“Yeah.” Connor shrugs while trying to hold in a grin. “He’s still here. I just saw him in the hall like ten minutes ago.”

Charlie glowers at her R.A.

“What?” He’s still grinning.

“I am NOT going to ask my EX-BOYFRIEND if I can go home with him for Christmas. Plus, have you met his parents? I am not spending Christmas with them!”

“Okay, fine,” Connor snorts. “So maybe that’s not the best idea.”

“Ya think?” Charlie shakes her head, doing her best to hold in her own smile. She’s well aware that Connor is trying to ruffle her feathers.

He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Ok, so not Jason. But seriously. You can’t stay in the res hall, Charlie. I feel bad, like I said, but I can’t just give you permission to stay here. Housing won’t be happy if they find out.”

“So don’t tell them?”

Connor leans his head back and groans. “You’re killing me here, Matheson.”

Charlie bites back a smile.

“What about a hotel?”

“Um…yeah, I am not paying for a hotel room.”

“Why not?”

Charlie raises her eyebrows and motions to her surroundings. “‘Cause a) they’re freaking expensive. And b) I already pay for this room, genius.”

Connor rolls his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. He’s quiet for a while, gaze fixed on the floor while the gears in his head turn. After a while he looks up. “Well…we have an extra room.”

“What?”

“An extra room. At my house.”

Charlie stares at him. Is he serious? He can’t be serious. Connor and Charlie are friends; have been since junior year. She might even consider him a relatively close friend - but not let-me-crash-at-your-house-over-winter-break close.

“It’s no big deal,” he says, as if he’s just read her thoughts. “And we live just a few miles from campus.”

“Who’s we, exactly?”

“Me and my dad. It’s usually just the two of us during the holidays, anyway.”

Charlie frowns. “Connor, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I can’t just intrude like that. Especially during the holidays.”

“What’s to intrude? Dad’s idea of Christmas dinner is usually Chinese take out or a take-n-bake pizza and the NBA Special on TV.”

“How festive,” Charlie chuckles.

“Yeah, and then at some point, he usually drinks too much spiked eggnog and passes out on the couch.”

Charlie smirks and suddenly pictures her Uncle Miles, who is famous among the Mathesons for doing the exact same thing after Christmas dinner. When she and Danny were little, they used to do all sorts of things to him while he slept. Drawing on his face. Putting glitter in his hair. The usual kid mischief.

“So? What do you say?” Connor’s question breaks her from her musings.

“Huh?”

“Winter break at my house? You in?”

“I don’t know.” Charlie chews on her bottom lip. “Think I’d rather just stay here, to be honest.”

“Why? Who wants to spend Christmas here, in this dump? Besides, that’s not even the point. The fact is you _can’t_ stay here. Seriously. As your R.A., I’ll get in trouble if you don’t move out over break.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is really about,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “No, Charlie. I’m trying to do a nice thing here.”

“Uh huh,” she challenges, enjoying the annoyance that clouds Connor’s features in response. She enjoys ruffling his feathers just as much as he enjoys ruffling hers.

“Well, it’s either come over, or be homeless for the next few days. Your choice.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “Shouldn’t you at least ask your dad before you invite me over?”

“Why? He won’t care. But, if it makes you feel better….” Connor pulls out his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll text him now and make sure it’s okay.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass Monroe frowns as he parks his Mercedes in front of the turn of the century Victorian he’s been working on for the past six months, gutting and rebuilding the old home from the bare floorboards up. It was meant to be an easy project. Home remodels usually are. And this one in particular was supposed to give him some breathing room before he started on his next big commercial project for a high end corporate client. Somewhere along the way, though, this project turned into an architect’s nightmare. Between the home owners’ constant indecision about some of Bass’s design choices and the contractors not being able to execute his vision, he’s found himself spending far too much time at this site than should be necessary for a project of this size.

He’s still frowning when he walks through the front door, watching as half the construction crew immediately scurries away - as if the Big, Bad Wolf has just entered their territory.

Bass shakes his head. He’s always considered himself a fairly outgoing and approachable person, so if the crew is running off like a herd of mice, it probably means something’s wrong with the work they’re doing.

Or _not_ doing, Bass realizes as he heads into the room that is supposed to be the kitchen. The room is far from ready. Cabinets aren’t in yet. Bare wires stick out of unfinished outlets. The floor isn’t yet tiled. He stops and points at one of the walls where some men are tearing out dry wall. “What the hell?  Wasn’t that wall finished?”

“The owner wanted a bigger pantry, Boss,” Ryan Scanlon, Bass’s right hand man, answers.

“But that’s a bearing wall. We’re looking at another delay. Why didn’t anyone ask me about this?”

Scanlon shifts his weight from one foot the other. “Sorry, Boss. You were in meetings this morning when the call came. The foreman needed direction so I made the call. The owners were clear. They want a bigger pantry more than they want to meet the deadline.”

Bass grits his teeth but then exhales a steadying breath. “Fine. Now, what about the banister in the front hall? I thought the staircase was going to be finished by now.”

Scanlon nods, leading the way through the kitchen and into the great hall beyond. “We’re expecting the banister to arrive later today. There were some issues with customs, but I got that cleared up this morning.”

Bass relaxes slightly, thankful for an assistant like Scanlon. “Thanks for taking care of that.” He’s ready to move on to the other rooms when his phone vibrates. He pulls it from his pocket, reads the text he’s received, and quickly types a response before shoving the phone back in his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Scanlon asks.

“Yeah, just my kid texting me.” He shrugs. “Anyway, let’s go look at the den. I want to check on those built-ins.”

They’re on their way to the den when Bass’s phone buzzes again. He pulls it back out and smirks when he notices who’s calling. “Hey, Brother.”

“Why does it sound like there’s an apocalypse happening behind you?” His best friend Miles snarks from the other end. “What’d you do?”

“I’m on site at a job, you idiot,” Bass chuckles. “And you know, most people just say hello when they make phone calls. Actually, no. _Most_ people don’t even make phone calls. They text.”

“Jesus, not this again,” Miles groans.

“Except you. I mean, _can_ you even text on that big, fat Casio 80s brick phone of yours?”

“I have an iPhone, Dumbass.”

“What?” Bass gasps, feigning shock. “Since when?”

“Since my last upgrade. Nora insisted.”

“Your wife is a good, good woman.”

“That she is.” The smile in Miles’s voice is obvious, even over the phone.

“How is she, by the way?”

“Very pregnant. And cranky as hell.”

 _“I heard that!”_ Nora barks from somewhere nearby.

“Shit,” Miles says before shouting back to his wife, “I mean…love you, Honey. Light of my life. Beautiful mother of my child!”

Bass snorts and listens to Miles’s pathetic attempt at placating his wife.

After only semi-succeeding, Miles turns his attention back to Bass. “So, listen. The reason I called is because I’m getting ready to send out your Christmas gifts, and I just wanted to make sure you and your little rugrat will be around to get them. They might not arrive right by Christmas - sorry - but I’m thinking by New Year’s, at the latest.”

“My _little rugrat_ is 22, Miles. You really need to visit Chicago more often. But yeah, we’ll be around.”

“You guys just doing your usual thing?”

“Yeah. Although, this year, we’re apparently going to be a party of three.”

“Oh really?” Miles sounds intrigued.

“Not ‘cause of me,” Bass explains. “Connor’s just having a friend over.”

“Oh.” The intrigue in Miles’s voice turns to disappointment. But then he adds, “Girlfriend, maybe?”

“Nah, just some buddy of his who needed a place to crash over winter break—” Bass is mid-sentence when Scanlon, who’s been patiently waiting for his boss to get off the phone, taps Bass on the shoulder. “Listen, Brother, I gotta go. Need to make sure these morons actually get my designs right. I’ll call you later?”

Miles chuckles. “Sure. Talk to you later.”

“Give Nora my love.”

“Will do.”

Bass ends the call and shoves his phone back in his pocket. He turns to Scanlon. “Alright, so this den.”


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie watches the falling snow through the passenger window of Connor’s Chevy Tahoe.  “So, you’re absolutely sure your dad doesn’t care that I’m crashing your holiday plans?”

“I don’t know that you’d really call them plans, but yeah - he doesn’t care.”

“You said you lived close to campus, though.  Where are we going?”  Charlie watches as the last of the city lights fade behind them.  The highway narrows to two lanes and the stars shine through the shimmering snowflakes.  “It looks like an old Christmas card out here.”

Connor smiles.  “So, I might have lied.  My dad and I do have one tradition that you’ll get to see firsthand tonight.”

Charlie quirks an eyebrow at him. “As long as it’s not ritual sacrifice of a beautiful co-ed, I’m on board.”

He throws his head back and laughs.  Then says, “Nah.  We save that for New Year’s.  Tonight we just get a tree.”

“Wait.” Charlie turns in her seat to fully face him.  “A real Christmas tree?”  A slow grin stretches across her face.

Connor shakes his head, embarrassed.  “I know it’s lame, but it’s something Dad remembered doing with his parents when he was little, and when he gets something stuck in his head....”

“I don’t think it’s lame at all.  I think it’s great.”

“Well, I think it’s lame.” Connor insists with a frown.  “I suggested we get one of those fiber optic artificial trees a few years ago, and he was really upset that I would even consider a fake tree. Offended, even. Now, I just know to expect this as part of my holiday every year.”

Charlie lets out a happy sigh.  “I’m almost glad Wisconsin got hit by that storm.”

Connor gives her a perplexed look.  

“I’ve never had a real tree, Connor.  Not once.”

“Well, we’ve been doing this since I was ten.  That was the year I came to live with my dad.  He wanted to make up for all those lost holidays, I guess.  So he’s always made a big deal out of the tree and opening presents on Christmas morning.  Stuff like that.”

“Well, I still think a real tree sounds nice.”  Charlie takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as her mind wanders.  

She thinks about the home she grew up in.  It’s a beautiful house, always perfectly clean and professionally decorated.  When Charlie was little, she’d wanted a real live Christmas tree but because of Danny’s allergies, Rachel had said no.  It wasn’t that the artificial tree had ever been bad, but it was sterile - like everything else in the Matheson house.  White twinkle lights and white balls.  Never any color.  Never any personality.  Whenever Charlie or Danny brought home an ornament they’d made at school, Rachel would compliment their work, but she would never hang anything other than her precious white ornaments on the tree.  

“Hey Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”  

“For?”

“For inviting me over. And for letting me tag along tonight.” Charlie will miss her family, especially Danny, but maybe this won’t be a bad change of plans after all.

The two friends are quiet as Connor slows and turns into a narrow lane, almost hidden beneath a canopy of trees.  The road is dark and winding, but the glistening snow makes it look magical.  

Once they reach the end of the meandering lane, Charlie gasps with delight.  A large, two story clapboard house stands front and center.  Every light is on and festive wreaths hangs at every window.  Twinkle lights are strewn from the house to a large lot near an old, red barn.  And even from this distance, Charlie can see that the lot is filled to bursting with trees of all sizes.

“We’re here,” Connor says, turning off the engine.  “Let’s go find my dad.”

They get out of the car and Charlie tightens her knitted hat on her head, then pulls her purple pea coat a little tighter in an effort to combat the brisk, cold air.  Fat snowflakes fall all around her, and she can’t help but grin as Connor puts his arm around her shoulder and leads her toward the tree lot.  

The place bustles with people. Everywhere Charlie looks, she sees smiling faces.  Parents and grandparents.  Children of all ages.  Some are dragging trees toward their cars.  Others are still looking for just the perfect tree.  An old man dressed as Santa is handing out steaming mugs of hot chocolate and in the background, holiday music plays  just above the hum of laughter that permeates the space.  

She takes in a cold breath, overcome by what she sees.  “This place is amazing,” she says.  “I don’t think you can even understand how much I love being here.”

“I think I can understand better than you think,” Connor laughs.  “Never thought I’d meet anyone who was as crazy about Christmas trees as my old man is, but looks like you might be.”  

“Connor!” A male voice rises above the music and the sounds of the crowd.  “Over here.”

Connor still has his arm wrapped around Charlie’s shoulders, and she giggles as he swings her around to face the voice.  

Charlie continues to soak up the surrounding sights.  She sees Santa who is yelling out his standard “Ho! Ho! Ho!”  Nearby, a young couple are holding hands; they have eyes only for each other.  Charlie also notices a little red-headed boy who is running full-tilt through the crowd, waving his arms and screaming with glee as he tries to evade three little girls in elf hats who are chasing him.  

Charlie laughs and jumps back, hoping to avoid the charging children, but in the process, she teeters and loses her balance, falling back into the fresh, powdery snow.  She can’t help but laugh even harder - the kind of laughter that bubbles up from the gut and leaves her out of breath.

“Here.  Take my hand.”

She's still panting when she looks up and sees an outstretched hand before her.  But it's not Connor's hand, she realizes, nor is it Connor's voice. This voice is low and sexy and reminds Charlie of whiskey poured slowly over ice.  She grasps the hand, watching as her fingers become enveloped in his strong grip.  She lets her gaze travel up the long arm, encased in navy blue wool, that leads to broad shoulders.  A white scarf hangs loosely around the man’s throat, but she notes the tan skin of his neck and his scruffy chin before she fully settles her gaze on his face.

He looks to be in his mid-forties or so and is smiling down at her. The twinkle lights that hang behind him shine through his dark golden curls like a halo.  His eyes are the most electric blue Charlie has ever seen and as his smile grows into a grin, she watches the skin around those beautiful eyes crinkle.

“Um....” She’s at a loss as he pulls her to her feet.  She can’t remember the last time she felt this tongue tied.  “Thank you,” she finishes lamely, wiping at the snow that now clings to her clothing.

“No problem.  Anything for Connor’s new…?”  Mr. Beautiful looks back and forth between Charlie and Connor, and it takes Charlie a moment to even register that this man knows Connor by name.  Her sluggish brain clicks into gear when it dawns on her that _this_ has to be Connor’s father.

“ _Friend_ , Dad.  She’s my friend.” Connor motions toward her.  “This is Charlie.  Charlie, I’d like you to meet my dad, Sebas - ”

“Bass.  Call me Bass.”  Connor’s dad holds his hand out once more. His smile by now has grown even wider.

She grasps his hand once more and feels a spark of awareness.  “It’s nice to meet you, Bass.”

“The pleasure is mine.”  

Charlie can’t tear her gaze from his.  He is beautiful.  An intense, movie star kind of beautiful that surpasses the looks of every other guy Charlie’s ever admired, Connor included.  Connor is a good looking guy, no doubt, but his dad?  Dear Lord.  Bass is sculpted and devastatingly handsome, and she thinks maybe if someone were to ask her to describe her dream guy, all she would have to do is point at this magnificent specimen.  

“Hey, thanks, by the way,” she tells him when her brain finally decides to work again.

Bass lifts a questioning brow.  “For what?”

“Letting me stay at your house over break.  I know it was short notice, and I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your generosity.”

His lips turn upwards and he shakes his head.  “Ah, everything is starting to make sense now.  When Connor told me _Charlie_ was coming to stay, I thought….”  He trails off and then turns to his son.  “What was the name of that bass player who crashed with us last summer?”

“Uh, well, his name is also Charlie.  Guess I should have clarified that this is a different Charlie.”

Bass laughs, and Charlie swears he’s suddenly even sexier than he had been a moment before.

“It’s short for Charlotte,” she explains, and she’s just about to add that she prefers her nickname, but Bass speaks first.

“Charlotte.”  He says her name like he’s tasting it, his silken rasp causing a shiver to run down her spine. Then he smiles at her again, and she feels her knees weaken.

To hell with the nickname, she thinks. He can call her absolutely whatever he wants.

“Well, Charlotte.”  He nods at her and then at Connor.  “Time to get down to business.  I found some good trees in the back of the west lot that might work.  What do you say we go take a look?”

Charlie trails behind the two men who are talking in shorthand born of years spent together.  They laugh and point at different trees as they walk along.  Bass glances over his shoulder.  The snowflakes continue to fall, and his cheeks are flushed with the cold.  He smiles at her again and she feels a heat growing in her belly.

“What do you think, Charlie?  See anything you like?”  Bass’s words are innocent enough, but Charlie’s mind swerves into territory that is not at all innocent.  

Recognizing that she’s expected to give an answer, though, she points at the closest tree without even really paying attention to what it looks like.  “This one?”

Connor looks at her like she’s crazy and shakes his head.  “Oh, Charlie.  No.  We’re looking for something a little bigger.”

“Bigger?”

Bass chuckles.  “Hey, you two look around.  I see someone I need to say hello to.”

Charlie watches, curious, as Bass walks past Santa and greets a beautiful brunette in a Burberry coat.  His smile is as charming and radiant from a distance as it is up close, and it’s not long before the brunette is laughing at something he said.

Several minutes pass, and Charlie continues to watch him, her attention so enraptured that she doesn’t even notice when Connor calls out to her.

“Charlie!”  He says for what she realizes is the third time when she finally spins around to face him.

“What?”

Connor gestures to one of the trees.  “What do you think of this one?”

“Uh, it’s really tall?”

“So is my dad’s living room.  He’s an architect so he designed the house himself.  All the ceilings are really tall.”

“Hmm….”  She mulls over this newly acquired information and looks around.  “What about that one?  You said you wanted big.  I think it’s the biggest.”

“Yes.  That one is perfect.”  Bass has come up behind them and he’s nodding.  “It’ll look great in the living room.  Well done, Charlotte.”

Charlie feels a wave of warmth working its way through her body as her name leaves his lips.  She tries not to focus on it.  “How will we get it to your house?  Do you drive a semi?”

Bass shakes his head with a grin.  “No.  The Millers deliver.  If they didn’t, we’d be getting a much smaller tree.”

“Dad is a big fan of delivery.  Pizza, Chinese, groceries, Christmas trees….”

“I’m a big fan of efficiency,” he corrects.  “Free time is hard to come by.  I don’t want to waste it loading and unloading cars.  Anyway, I’ll settle the bill and make arrangements for the delivery.  See you guys at home?”

Connor nods, pulling his keys from his coat pocket.  “What’s for dinner?”

“Why don’t you stop and order something from Ching Dow?  Get some extra egg rolls.”  Bass looks at Charlie.  “You like Chinese, right?”

“Sure.”

“Alright.  See you guys in a little while.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass tightens his gloved fingers around his steering wheel and takes a deep breath.  “Get a grip, Monroe.  She’s a kid.”

A drop-dead _gorgeous_ _kid_ who will evidently be sleeping in his house for the next week, but still - a kid.  His brain doesn’t seem to care about that fact, though, as he thinks about her sparkling blue eyes and the way her whole face, pink from the winter air, lit up when she laughed.  He thinks about her hair, hanging in long golden curls, and wonders if it would feel as soft as it looks. She’d been wearing a pea coat, but it couldn’t hide her lean frame, long legs, and subtle curves.  

“Shit,” he mutters to himself.

He turns the key in the ignition and the steady hum of German engineering comes to life under him.  He takes another deep breath.

Connor’s friend. Connor’s friend. Connor’s friend, Bass mentally chants the words. Even if he had time for a relationship (he doesn’t) and even if she were interested (of course she’s not), she is Connor’s friend.  She is Connor’s _age_. The hottie in the tree lot is young enough to be his -

“Shit,” he repeats, and puts his car in drive before he can fully finish that thought.

 

**A/N: Thanks for all the great comments on chapter 1! We are really having a blast writing this story and hope you are enjoying it as well. Please take a moment and let us know what you think. ~ Lemon & Romeo**


	3. Chapter 3

"Wow, your dad designed this?" Charlie's eyes widen as Connor turns into a long, snowy driveway that leads up to a huge, navy blue house.

Surrounded by snow-covered trees and a perfectly landscaped yard, the New England-style home is all decked out in white icicle lights and looks like it belongs on the cover of a design magazine.

"Yeah. And he nearly went insane while doing it," Connor says. "I still feel bad for the contractors who had to build the place. Dad was always on site while they were working, barking out orders like an old war general because he wanted to make sure they got every damn detail exactly how he envisioned it."

Charlie giggles at the mental image of that as Connor pulls his vehicle into the large, three-car garage and turns off the engine.

"Just, whatever you do, don't ask him for a tour when you get inside. I mean, I can give you a tour if you want, but my dad seems to think a tour requires an accompanying history and architecture lesson. It takes forever." Connor shakes his head.

"Your dad likes history?" Charlie asks, intrigued, as she climbs down from the SUV and walks around back to retrieve her bags.

"Likes it?" Connor snorts. "He's the biggest history nerd I know. Worse than you, even."

"Funny. I don't seem to recall my nerdiness being a problem when you were taking Strausser's US History class year," Charlie snarks. "All your constant: 'Charlie, help me edit this paper. Charlie, help me study for this mid term.' You passed that damn class because of me."

"Yes, I did. And I am forever grateful. But God. Don't remind me of Strausser. Worst prof I ever had." Connor shudders. "I don't know why anyone takes his classes. And you took two, you freak."

"I needed them for my major." Charlie shrugs. "And he's not that bad."

" _Not that bad_? Are you kidding me?" Connor gapes at her. "He's the worst! And he's fucking scary."

"He's not scary. He just tries to be intimidating at first so people don't screw around in his classes."

"Uh, no. He's scary. Plain and simple. In fact, he's the only prof I've had who genuinely scares me. Still."

"Wuss," Charlie teases.

"Whatever. I'm done having this conversation. Come on." Connor rolls his eyes and leads Charlie into the house.

They take off their coats and shoes and drop off their bags before heading into the kitchen.

Connor sets the bags of Chinese take out on the kitchen counter. "Dad! We're home!"

Charlie is in awe as she takes in her surroundings. She grew up in a relatively affluent neighborhood in a spacious suburban home that her mother took very good care of. But her childhood home is quite meager compared to Bass's house. It's obvious that the place was designed with meticulous care and that its owner has gone out of his way to make every detail perfect.

The open kitchen is huge with stainless steel appliances, wood cabinets and beautiful granite countertops, and spotless, porcelain floors. It sits adjacent to an enormous living room with well-stocked bookcases and plush furniture. The decor is simple but sophisticated and decidedly masculine.

"Wow, you weren't kidding about the tall ceilings," Charlie notes as she meanders into the living room, her gaze following the slope of the ceiling. She then thinks about the tree they purchased earlier and suddenly can't wait to see what it will look like in this space.

She's still admiring the room when her eyes trail over to the open staircase, and she can't help but suck in a breath.

Bass is there, with a large plastic trunk in his arms. He hasn't noticed her yet, it seems, but Charlie watches as he carefully descends the stairs.

She feels a fluttering in her stomach as she drinks in the sight of him: all rumpled and relaxed in a pair of worn, fitted jeans and a slightly wrinkled gray sweater that is just snug enough to prove that the body underneath is well-sculpted. And he's wearing glasses. He wasn't wearing those earlier, Charlie recalls, but Dear God do they work wonders for him. He looks older. Wiser. Sexier. She didn't think it was possible for him to look any better than he did at the tree farm, but she quickly realizes just how wrong she was.

"Charlotte," he greets her as he passes by.

She just smiles, feeling that flutter in her belly again, and watches as he places the trunk on the coffee table.

"Welcome to our humble abode," he says with a sigh.

"Your house is beautiful," she answers. "Thanks again for letting me stay here."

"We're happy to have you," Bass assures her, smiling.

"We can eat now." Connor walks into the living room. He then notices the plastic trunk on the table and frowns. "Oh no."

Charlie gives him a confused look. "What?"

"That." He nods toward the box.

"Uh…yeah?" Charlie raises her eyebrows and glances between father and son.

"Just wait till you see what's in there," Connor explains. "Dad's Christmas decorations. They're ridiculous. He's got a million colored lights that are super outdated and gaudy and this huge star he puts at the top of the tree."

"What's wrong with my star?" Bass interjects.

But Connor keeps going. "No two ornaments are the same. There are some Hallmark ones that light up or make noise, some antiques that were his mom's, and some that belonged to his sisters. He even has a few that I made out of popsicle sticks when I was little."

"Hey, the popsicle stick ornaments are adorable." Bass opens the trunk and starts pulling out various items that perfectly match Connor's descriptions.

"Dad." Connor makes a face at his father. "I made that shit when I was in preschool."

"Yeah. So?"

"So…it's embarrassing!"

"Not as embarrassing as your baby book." Bass winks at Charlie. "Bet Charlie would love to see that?"

Connor groans. "Can we eat already? I'm starving."

"Okay, fine," Bass chuckles. "The tree won't be here for another thirty minutes anyway." He glances at the paper plates, plastic silverware, and assortment of take out cartons arranged on the kitchen island. "And I see you've broken out the fine china tonight, Connor."

"Figured I would since, you know, we have a guest over." Connor shrugs at Charlie. "Usually we just eat right out of the boxes."

"Classy." Charlie smirks.

The familial bantering continues all throughout dinner, and Charlie can't help but laugh as she interacts with the two men. She has always appreciated Connor's charisma and charm, and it's obvious now that he gets it from his dad. But Bass. He takes both of those qualities to a whole new level. He is witty and warm and has a great sense of humor, making deliberate attempts to embarrass Connor and make Charlie laugh - and effortlessly succeeding at both.

They're just finishing up their meal when the doorbell rings.

"Perfect timing." Bass grins, setting down his chopsticks and wiping his hands on a paper napkin.

"Oh God," Connor mutters as his dad heads to the front door. "He's gonna make us decorate with him."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Charlie says before popping a fried wanton in her mouth.

Connor frowns at her. "It _is_ a bad thing!"

"You're such a Grinch."

"No, see, you don't get it. It takes hours to decorate that tree. He has this whole strategy worked out on exactly how he wants his tree done. And sometimes he gets super nostalgic and starts telling stories about every ornament we own. Even though we decorate the same exact way with the exact same shit every single year."

"He gets sentimental." Charlie smiles. "I think that's sweet."

"The first time, maybe. Not so much when you've heard those stories about three hundred times over."

"Well, at least your decorations have stories. My mom's stuff is all generic department store stuff. And we don't even decorate together. She hires a professional decorator each year."

"I wish Dad would do that."

"You're hopeless," Charlie chuckles, then turns her attention to the commotion in the next room.

It takes four sturdy delivery guys to haul in the Christmas tree. Bass gives them very specific instructions on where to set it up, and then he stands back and examines the gigantic noble fir.

"So? What do you guys think?" He asks when Charlie and Connor join him in the living room.

"It's fine, Dad." Connor stares at his phone rather than at the tree.

"It's perfect," Charlie says, breathing in the fragrant pine scent that now fills the room.

Bass gives her yet another heart-stuttering smile in return. The man is gorgeous. And his genuine excitement over Christmas just makes him all the more attractive.

"So, you kids ready to decorate? Connor, why don't you put on some Christmas music? And we'll get started."

"Or." Connor raises his index finger like he's got a brilliant idea. "I could play live music - on the piano - while _you_ guys decorate."

Bass shakes his head and looks at Charlie. "See, Charlie, this is what he does. Any time I need him to do something around here, it's: 'sorry, Dad, I have to go practice the piano.' Or guitar. Or tuba. Or whatever."

"You play the tuba?" Charlie gives Connor an amused look. "The clarinet I knew about, but the tuba?"

"What? I play everything." Connor grins, and before anyone can stop him, he heads over to the beautiful white baby grand that sits in the middle of the living room.

Bass rolls his eyes at his son before turning back to Charlie. "Well…looks like it's just you and me, Charlotte."

"Guess so." She nods, trying not to smile too hard, as the luscious jazz chords of Vince Guaraldi's _Christmastime is Here_ surround them.

 

\---------------

 

Connor is well into the chorus of _God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen_ when Bass looks over at Charlie. He's been glancing her way a lot throughout the evening and this time, he lets his gaze take in her form-fitting blue sweater that sets off her eyes. She's even prettier than he'd realized when they'd first met. He's not sure how that's possible, but it is.

They've been silently hanging ornaments for a little while, but Charlie's actions have slowed. She seems a bit preoccupied, and Bass has the feeling she wants to say something. "What is it?" He finally asks. "Anything wrong?"

"No. It's nothing." She shakes her head, focusing her attention on the ornament in her hand.

"Nuh uh, out with it," he coaxes. "You are our guest. I want you to feel at home here."

"Okay, well I do have one question….I love Christmas and this tree is amazing."

"That's not a question, Charlotte," he teases her softly. She laughs, but Bass doesn't miss the way her cheeks redden.

"You're right," she agrees. "So my question is: why are you so crazy about Christmas? Connor made it sound like you really go all out." She motions to the tree. "Clearly, he wasn't exaggerating."

Instead of answering, Bass reaches into the ornament box and pulls out a simple silver cross attached to a long white ribbon. He hands it to her. Engraved on the cross in simple script are the names: _William, Gail, Cynthia and Angela Monroe_.

"Who were they?" Charlie's smile fades, and a sense of genuine understanding - even if she doesn't know the details - invades her pretty features.

Bass exhales slowly. "My family. I lost them all in one day. One moment."

"I'm so sorry." Charlie reaches out instinctively, putting a hand on his arm.

Bass watches her carefully and his heart clenches. Some people don't know how to react to this revelation. Some change the subject or can't find the right words. Others have tried to pepper him with platitudes that they think are helpful, but aren't. Charlie just holds his gaze. And the sincerity that sparkles in her bright blue eyes belies her age.

He nods, emotion forming in his throat. "That first year, I didn't do Christmas at all. I drank myself into a stupor instead. I didn't put up a tree because Christmas had always been this big deal to my folks, and I didn't think I could do it without them…and I didn't. I avoided celebrating for several years."

"So, what changed?"

"Connor. His mom and I…. By the time I found out she'd had him, he was nine and she was getting sick. He was this skinny kid who was worried about his mom and afraid of the changes he knew were coming. We talked a lot that year. He asked me once about what Christmas was like at my house. I couldn't tell him the truth, could I? Me and a bottle of whiskey? So, I told him about Christmas from when I was a kid. My parents used to take us to this tree farm back home and we'd pick a tree together…."

Charlie squeezes his arm, encouraging him to continue.

"After Connor's mom died, he came to live with me. He had just turned ten. He was so quiet at first, and then it was December and I knew I'd have to come through or he would never let me get close. So, we went to Millers and Connor helped me pick out a tree. This was way before I built the house. We lived in this shitty little apartment so that first tree was way smaller. We combined the ornaments Emma had saved from when he was little with all the ones I had of my mom's," he chuckles at the memory and carefully takes the silver cross from her fingers, hanging it on the tree. "After that, it got easier. Losing my family almost ruined the holidays for me, but Connor helped me find joy in them again. So, that's why I love Christmas. Family."

"Family." She smiles sadly and nods in agreement. Letting go of his arm, she fishes another ornament out of the box and eyes it with suspicion. It's made of hardened clay that has been painted brown. "Uh, what's this?"

Bass grins at her, thankful that she knew exactly when to change the subject. "That is Connor's attempt at making Baby Jesus out of modeling clay, and yes – I know it looks like a turd."

Charlie's eyes go wide and she tries not to laugh but can't help herself. "I love it."

"Yeah. Me too."

Their eyes lock and Bass feels something loosening in his chest. Charlie may be a girl, but she has an old soul. He likes her. He likes her far more than he knows he should.

 

\---------------

 

Two hours, several Christmas songs, and three pitchers of eggnog later, Bass and Charlie are hanging the final ornaments.

Connor walks into the room, chewing on a cold egg roll as he surveys the tree. "It looks good, guys."

"What happened to our music?" Charlie asks.

Connor shrugs. "I'm tired." He walks closer to the tree and snickers. "Hey Dad, you're losing your touch."

Bass peeks out from the far side of the tree, looking at his son over the rim of his glasses. "What are you talking about?"

Connor points at an ornament on a low branch. "She hung one of the Baker ornaments next to one of Grandma Monroe's lace angels."

"Oh." Bass runs a hand through his hair and then chuckles. "Yeah, I guess I didn't mention that rule to Charlie."

"Rules? You have rules for decorating? And what's a Baker ornament?"

"Jeremy Baker is a good friend of mine," Bass explains. "We both started out in the architecture business around the same time and have worked on several projects together over the years. Our first one was a renovation for this lake mansion. It was Christmastime. We were just wrapping everything up when the decorator came in. She was awful. I kind of butted in and was giving her pointers. Baker thought it was hilarious. He went out that night and bought me an obnoxious ornament. Said I could be an interior decorator if the architecture gig ever fell through. And he's never stopped. I get one in the mail every year."

"But they can't be near your mom's ornaments, why exactly?" Charlie raises an eyebrow.

"See here?" Bass points at a chubby Santa reading a magazine. "That can't be next to Mom's lace angel."

Charlie glances at the Santa and then back at Bass. "I don't get it."

"Look closer, Charlie." Connor struggles to contain his laughter.

Charlie leans in and peers at the little man in the red suit. His face is chubby and his smile is jolly. She looks down at the magazine in his fat little fingers and her eyes go wide. "Santa is reading Playboy?"

"Yeah!" Connor is doubled over now. "And he has a big boner!"

"Oh my God." Charlie is laughing now too as she moves the naughty Santa away from the angel. Then she looks at Bass. "But if you don't like it, why hang it up?"

"I hang all of them up. Each one is special or memorable in its own way. I just keep the Baker ornaments away from my mom's. I know that may sound stupid, but my mom was really straight laced. She would not have liked the pervy additions to the tree."

"There's more?"

Connor stands next to Charlie. "There are a lot of them, actually." He scans the tree and stops with a smile. "Here, look closely at this candy cane. It's actually a very curvy penis in white and red." He points again. "And this may look from a distance like Santa is giving Mrs. Claus the Heimlich…."

"But he's not." Bass breaks in, walking up behind Charlie as Connor heads back into the kitchen.

Charlie is feeling the effects of the eggnog and also Bass's presence. Both are making her body hum. She lets out a laugh, hoping it sounds normal. "So which one is new this year?"

Bass rests a hand on her arm and leads her to the other side of the tree. "Oh, this year, Jeremy outdid himself."

He points to the ornament and Charlie can't believe what she's seeing. Santa is standing at the foot of a large four poster bed in only his red, fur trimmed pants. His hands are tied and he's blindfolded. Two busty girl elves hold whips. "Whoa. I bet you don't even store this one in the same _box_ as your mom's ornaments."

"Exactly." Bass smiles fondly. "It's ridiculous and inappropriate, but so is Jeremy. I think that's my favorite thing about this collection of ornaments. Each one reminds me of someone or a certain time in my life…." He trails off. "I like to remember."

Charlie feels his body behind hers, close enough that she can smell his scent of soap and pine. His hand is still on her arm and her pulse quickens when he squeezes it briefly before moving away.

Connor walks through, yawning. "I'm going to bed. You need anything, Charlie?"

"No. I don't need anything," she breathes out. "I'll be turning in soon as well."

A short while later, Charlie says goodnight to Bass and heads upstairs. Her room is at the end of the hallway. She opens the door and steps inside, looking around curiously. She hadn't had a chance to explore much when they had dropped off their bags earlier. Now she takes it all in.

The bed is big with an antique iron frame. It's been made up with luxuriously soft, grey flannel sheets and fluffy white pillows. The bed calls to her body, but her mind is still far from sleepy. She turns her attention to the rest of the room. There is an old fashioned writing desk and a bureau. On the wall above the desk is a large topographical map of the Confederate states.

Charlie breaks into a slow, goofy smile, surveying the room once more. Above the bureau is a portrait. She knows who it is without reading the little name plate: President Jefferson Davis. She mutters softly under her breath, "Wonder if there's a Yankee room somewhere in this house?"

She bites her lip, knowing that if there is, it probably belongs to Bass himself. Her imagination is quick to supply a mental image: Bass sitting up in a bed made with navy blue sheets, no shirt, hair mussed, glasses perched on his nose. He's reading a book – no doubt something historical. In her little fantasy, he glances her way and smiles, beckoning her to join him.

"Get a grip, Matheson." She shakes the thoughts away and opens her bag.

She finds a pair of flannel pajama pants and a tank top and puts them on before padding into the adjoining bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Once she's done, she crawls under the covers and tries to go to sleep.

Several minutes pass, and Charlie finds that her mind is still racing - thoughts of Bass consuming her despite her every effort to think of something else. Eventually she gets out of bed and begins to pace, then decides she needs a distraction. Maybe a book.

Charlie looks around but finds no books in the room. She clearly remembers walking past a library, though, and figures Bass won't mind if she pokes her head in there and finds something to read. Quietly, she leaves her room and makes her way down the stairs.

She heads toward the library but stops and turns when she sees a hint of light coming from the living room. The tree must still be on. Grinning, she walks into the room.

The tree is enormous. Bass had used a ladder to decorate the top. The lights are colorful and the decorations are perfectly spaced. Just looking at it makes her feel warm and happy. This tree represents everything a Christmas tree should, in Charlie's opinion: family, friendship, and tradition.

"So which one's your favorite?" Bass's low, raspy voice breaks the silence.

Charlie whirls, surprised to see him there, sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He has a drink in one hand and a warm smile on his face.

"Oh, hi," she says, suddenly hyper aware that the tank she's wearing is far too tight, too thin, and too short to be worn without a robe in a house that is not her own. She fights the instinct to cover her breasts, doing all she can to remain calm.

But her insecurity about her own appearance soon becomes a thing of insignificance as she focuses her attention on Bass. He looks good enough to eat in his cotton pants and old tee shirt. He's still wearing his glasses, and a small stack of books sits on the table near his bare feet. Charlie watches the way his smile falters when his gaze falls to her chest.

She feels her nipples harden under his lustful stare. Still, she keeps her back straight, facing him head on. If Bass wants to look, let him look, she decides.

But when he doesn't stop looking, his eyes slowly scanning the entire length of her body, she clears her throat. "My favorite what?"

"Huh?" His eyes swing back up to hers, but it's clear he's distracted. "Uh, the ornaments? Which one do you like the best?"

She exhales a breath and grasps the first one that she sets her eyes on. "Well, I really like this one with Snoopy and Woodstock in little Marine uniforms."

This gets his attention, and he grins. "Yeah, my mom got me that one the Christmas after I enlisted. My best friend and I had both signed up and shipped off right out of high school. Those were good times."

"You were a Marine?"

He nods. "Did two tours before I got out. Went to college on the GI Bill." He motions to the house around them. "And now here I am."

Charlie walks to the couch and sits down, being sure not to sit too close. "Yeah, seems like it worked out."

"Yeah." He takes a drink from his glass, watching her. "So, why are you down here? Was something wrong with the room?"

"No, the Johnny Reb room is fine." She smirks in his direction.

He chuckles and shrugs. "I like what I like."

Charlie looks into his eyes. "Yeah, me too."

There is a moment of silence as they say things with their eyes that neither is willing to say aloud. Then her gaze falls to his lips and she can't help but imagine what they would feel like against her own.

She shakes her head, attempting to clear her thoughts. "A book," she says.

"What?"

"I came down looking for a book, and I saw the tree and…." She shrugs, not bothering to finish her thought. "Anyway, how about sharing some of whatever you're drinking there?" She nods to his glass.

"This." His face is gorgeously smug as he holds up his glass. "Is the finest Kentucky bourbon, aged twenty years. I know you can handle your eggnog, but this, Charlotte, is not eggnog."

Charlie narrows her eyes at him. "Try me. I happen to love bourbon."

Her answer causes him to break into a smile. "Well, then. Let me get you a glass. I'll be right back."

He returns in moments with a second glass and pours two fingers for her. She takes the outstretched glass and sips, closing her eyes to savor the intense flavor. "Mmm, that is really good," she confirms, and when she glances up, she can see that he's watching her mouth.

His lips are slightly parted and his stare is hungry.

A shiver races down her spine before she settles back into the leather couch cushions, staring at the tree as she sips. "This is nice."

"The tree?"

"That's part of it, yeah, but it's more than that. I wanted to go home for Christmas, you know? I wanted to see my brother. He's going to school in New York so I don't see him very often. My dad is a sweetheart and he likes to sing 'Joy to the World' before we open presents. My mom always makes this amazing Christmas dinner. She's a scientist, so she says a recipe is just a formula and the kitchen is her lab. Anyway, she makes piles of food and it's all so good…."

"That sounds fantastic."

"It is." Charlie nods and then turns to face him once more. "But this is good too. If I can't be home for Christmas, I'm glad this is where I am instead."

Bass is quiet for a second as he takes another drink, but his eyes never leave hers. "So why don't you tell me about yourself? All I know is that you go to school with Connor and you like Christmas and know how to drink."

She smiles as she takes another sip. "Yeah. I go to school with Connor, although we don't have any of the same classes."

"Not a music major, huh?"

"Nope. We met in the residence hall. He's my R.A."

"So what's your major?"

"History. I really don't know what I want to do with it yet, but I love it."

This sparks his interest. "History? That's great. What's your focus?"

Charlie studies his face for a moment. Then she quietly giggles.

"What?" He asks, brow scrunched in confusion.

"Nothing. It's just…most people are really quick to tell me that I picked a useless major. Not ask me what my focus is."

"Well, I'm not most people." He winks, and she feels her heart rate jump. "So...your focus?"

"American history. Revolutionary period mostly, but I've also studied the Civil War a lot." She nods to the back wall where a large framed map of Gettysburg hangs. "I went there last summer for a conference. Afterwards, we watched a reenactment. It was amazing."

Bass nods, smiling happily. "My great-great-great etc. grandfather fought in the Battle of Chattanooga under Grant. I have a photo of their regiment in my office. It's one of my most prized possessions."

"That's amazing. I think all of my ancestors were teachers or farmers."

"We'll have plenty of time to talk about history this week. Remind me and I'll show you some antique journals I bought at an auction last year."

"I will." She beams.

"So what else should I know about you, Charlie?" Bass asks. And she's still thinking up an answer to his question when he abruptly adds, "Got a boyfriend?"

She arches a surprised eyebrow at him but then lowers her eyes to the drink in her hand. "No boyfriend. Not for quite a while."

"Really?" He doesn't seem convinced. "Does my idiot son have something to do with that? Please don't tell me he broke your heart."

Charlie can't help but snort at the absurdity of that accusation. She smiles at Bass. "No, he'd never. He's a good friend. Always has my back."

"Good." Bass nods, seeming satisfied with that answer. "Glad to hear it."

"What about you?"

Bass pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "Hm?"

"Girlfriend?"

"Oh." His quiet chuckle holds a hint of amusement. "No. Don't have time for one, really. Maybe if I didn't work so much."

Charlie nods and tries not to smile too hard as the realization settles into her bones: Bass is single. Single and outrageously sexy. And here.

And _way_ off-limits, she reminds herself.

She's just about give herself a mental pep talk of sorts when Bass interrupts her.

"So you and Connor…." His voice is low and cautious, gaze focused on the tree.

Charlie looks at him, her eyes scanning the delightful lines of his face, and waits for him to continue.

When several, long seconds pass and he says nothing more, Charlie finishes the thought for him: "Are genuinely just friends."

He turns to her then - as if she's just granted him permission of some sort - and stares at her, his eyes burning with intrigue while he digests her confession.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. He's a great guy. But I'm just…." She pauses and licks her lips, trying to determine the most delicate way to say it. "I'm done dating college guys, I guess."

The corner of his mouth twitches up for a second, and Charlie doesn't miss the obvious satisfaction that slides over his rugged features. But he doesn't say anything. Just quietly sighs and turns his attention back to the tree before taking another sip from his glass.

They sit in companionable silence for some time, but the air around them is rife with a kind of electricity that Charlie can't explain. It's unlike anything she's ever felt. Surely, she can't be the only one who feels it, she thinks, but she also has no idea how to address it - if at all. So she stays quiet and lets her thoughts drift to no place in particular while she focuses her attention on the glittering lights of the Christmas tree.

Finally, after what feels like a long time, Bass turns to her and breaks the silence. "Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here. I know you'd rather be with your family, but I'm glad Connor asked you to stay with us." His gaze is so focused and his voice holds such a resonant sincerity that it causes Charlie's breath to catch.

She realizes that at some point, the space between them has diminished. She looks down at their thighs, just barely touching.

The bourbon is warming her up and loosening her inhibitions, and she can't stop thinking about what it would feel like to reach over and kiss him. He's watching her, his lips pursed and his expression unreadable. And he's so close. Close enough that she can feel the heat of his skin.

Bass must be thinking the same thing, Charlie discovers, because the next thing she knows, they both are leaning in at the same time, and then their lips meet, and they're kissing.

Bass's lips are firm and warm. His beard is soft, and he tastes like twenty year old bourbon and brand new attraction. And when his fingers wind into her hair, pulling her closer, Charlie thinks she might die. The kiss is gentle - chaste even - but sets her nerve endings on fire. The way her body responds to this man is different from anything she's ever experienced before.

He is different from anyone she's ever kissed before; different from anyone she's ever met before.

They break the kiss and look into each other's eyes, fiery blue on blue. Neither says a word. But then, words aren't exactly necessary.

Bass slowly strokes her cheek with the pad of his thumb and watches her. The look on his face is intense but makes it clear that he's waiting for her to make the next move.

Of course, the one move she really _wants_ to make is to lean in and kiss him again. But he's over twice her age and he's Connor's father.

Connor's father,her conscience repeatedly screams, like a siren going off in her head.

Sweet, loyal Connor who's been gracious enough to invite her over for Christmas when she couldn't go home to her own family. Connor, who has always been a good friend. Connor, who was her shoulder to cry on when she and Jason broke up last year.

Connor...who is asleep upstairs.

What the hell would he think if he found out she was downstairs, in his house, macking on his dad in the middle of the night?

The thought causes guilt to twist in Charlie's stomach. So she doesn't give herself time to answer that question or any others and quickly stands up. "Thanks for the drink," she says, her voice far shakier than she intended. She doesn't look at Bass as she places her glass on the coffee table. "I should go to bed. Goodnight, Bass."

Her heart falls a little when he doesn't say anything in response, but she can feel his fierce stare boring into her back as she leaves the room. She's halfway up the stairs when she hears his quiet reply:

"Goodnight, Charlotte."

* * *

**A/N: We are really loving this story and hope you are too. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos for the first two chapters. Please take a moment to review. We appreciate your feedback! -Romeo & Lemon**


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie opens her eyes slowly and looks around her borrowed room.  Bright sunlight streams through soft gray curtains and the room is bathed in a peaceful morning stillness.  The air is cool and she snuggles deeper into her soft, warm bed, smiling lazily as she inhales the scent of freshly brewed coffee coming from downstairs.

Her smile broadens as her thoughts turn to Bass and their unexpected kiss from the night before: the way his eyes glowed when they locked on hers; the soft tickle of his beard against her face as they moved closer to one another; his warm, supple lips pressing into hers, and the way his thick fingers gently tangled into her hair, making her entire body throb and hum and -

Charlie’s smile drops and she sits up.  What the fuck is wrong with her?  This is Bass Monroe she’s thinking about.  Connor’s _dad_.  Not some random guy she met at a UC frat party.

She kissed him.  She freaking _kissed_ Connor’s dad.  And he kissed her back.  And if the look in his eyes was any indication, he would have kept kissing her, had she not pulled away.

She exhales a weighty sigh.  What the hell is she supposed to do now?  How on earth is she supposed to face him again?  What will she say when she sees him?  What will he say to her in return?

She groans and throws off the covers before her thoughts have a chance to spiral any further, then tries her best to reasonably assess the situation.

Okay, so she kissed Connor’s dad.  It happened.  So what?  She needs to get over it, she tells herself.  Because the fact is, winter break is nowhere near over; she still has several days left to spend in his house. She can’t let what happened last night ruin her break.  Besides, Bass is a mature adult.  They are both adults.  Yes, they kissed, but surely, they can each handle the situation with civility.

With her mind made, Charlie climbs out of bed and goes into the bathroom.  She takes a moment to brush her teeth and finger comb her hair, clipping it up loosely on top of her head.  Then she pulls a hoodie over the tank she’d slept in and heads downstairs, following her nose to the kitchen.

She finds the coffee maker easily and quickly fills one of the mugs that has been laid out, then brings it to her lips and sips carefully, savoring the rich taste of Colombia’s finest as it erupts on her tongue.  “So good,” she sighs, her head feeling clear for the first time all morning.  

Charlie takes a look around the room.  The kitchen is neat and tidy.  A bowl of fresh fruit sits in the center of the granite island, so she grabs an apple and wanders out into the living room.

Bass is nowhere to be seen, which is probably just as well, but she finds Connor.  He, too, is still in his pajamas, his dark curls sticking out in every which direction, and he is sitting in front of the television, eating a big bowl of Froot Loops while watching Scooby Doo on the big screen.  

Charlie shakes her head and laughs before sitting down beside her friend.  “I have a feeling this scene hasn’t changed much since you were a kid.”

“Excuse you.”  Connor looks at her, his lips curling into a cocky smirk.  “I’m way different these days.”

Charlie takes another sip of coffee.  “How so?”

“Well, I used to eat Frosted Flakes, and sometimes I would watch Power Rangers.”

“Uh huh. That’s what I thought,” she giggles, setting her coffee on the side table.  She takes a bite from her apple and watches Connor thoughtfully.

Unable to take her scrutinizing stare for very long, he turns to her with a frown.  “What?”

“We’re going to actually do something today, aren’t we?  I mean, other than watch cartoons?”

“God, you’re demanding.  I gave you a place to stay.  Didn’t promise any entertainment.”

She playfully punches him in the arm, and they’re both laughing when Bass enters the room.  Charlie sinks lower into the cushions, suddenly embarrassed by her pajama pants, hoodie, and messy hair.

Bass, on the other hand, looks amazing.  He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit and the same wool coat and scarf from the night before.  He smiles in her direction but seems distracted.  “She’s right, Connor.  You guys should get out and do something.  Maybe go to the Christmas market down on the loop?  It’s always fun, and maybe you can pick up some of those German doughnuts we like.”

Connor shrugs.  “I don’t know.  Maybe.”

Bass sighs at Charlie.  “Good luck getting this lump off the couch.”  Then he turns and heads for the front door.  

Charlie watches him walk away and starts to think that maybe she imagined everything that had happened between them last night.  But then Bass glances back and looks at her.  Really looks at her.  She feels his gaze burning into her like a flame.  

Their eyes lock, and he smiles slowly, then walks out the door.

“That isn’t really what you want, is it?” Connor asks, his mouth full of cereal.

“Uh, what?” Charlie turns back to him, her cheeks burning.

“The Christmas market thing?  It’s crowded and kind of crazy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie breathes out a sigh.  “Actually, that sounds good.  Let’s go.”

 

\---------------

 

“Hey Boss?”  Scanlon walks into Bass’s office with a clipboard in his hand and a confused look on his face.

“What?”  Bass answers absently.  He stares, unfocused, out the window by his desk.  Snow falls in lazy swirls, and his thoughts are anywhere but the office.

“Uh, so you gave me the order for the countertops in the Page house?”

“Yeah?”  Bass continues to stare out the window.

“You ordered granite, but I remember the owner ordered polished concrete.  Remember?  She wanted that whole industrial look?”  Scanlon is nervous.  He’s not used to second guessing his boss.

Bass turns to face his assistant with a scowl.  “I ordered the concrete.”  He takes the offered sheet from Scanlon and looks at his own handwriting.  Sure enough, he’d screwed up the order.  Shit.  “Did you catch it in time?”

“Yeah.  I did, but that’s not all.”

Bass runs his hand through his hair, frustration evident in his expression.  “What else?”

“You submitted the specs for the Andover remodel.”

“And?”

“You sent the wrong ones.  They got the plans for the Victorian instead.  They sent them right back and I resubmitted the right ones, but I wanted to let you know….”  Scanlon raises an eyebrow.  “Everything okay?”

No, he mentally growls. Everything is not okay.

Memories of that kiss with Charlie have consumed him all morning.  When he woke up, he had decided to brush it off, but then he’d seen her sitting on his sofa with Connor.  She’d looked rumpled and sexy as hell, and when their eyes had met, Bass had felt her gaze like a touch.  

Now he can’t stop thinking of her, and it’s impacting his work.

Shit.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” he lies.  “Sorry.  I’m just busy with the holidays and my kid is home.  That kind of stuff.  Thanks for picking up the slack.  I owe you.”

Scanlon gives his boss an affirmative nod.  “I accept payment in the form of Blackhawk tickets,” he says with a chuckle before letting himself out.

 

\---------------

 

Connor shakes his head sadly as they look around the Christkindlmarket crowd.  “Told you this place was nuts.”

Charlie laughs at his obvious discomfort.  “Oh, come on. I think it looks fun.”

“Maybe if you are already very drunk, want to spend way too much on last minute Christmas presents, or love German food…or maybe all three.”

Charlie puts her arm through Connor’s and leads him into the mêlée.  “We aren’t drunk – yet, but I do need some last minute Christmas gifts and I adore German food.  Where do we find those doughnuts your dad wanted?”  

She grins happily at the scene around them.  Everywhere they look, lights are glowing.  Carolers are singing along with a small brass band and the smell of sausages and kraut drift from a nearby food stall.

Connor points.  “Down this way.  Let’s get some beers first.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They drink and snack as they walk along the stalls.  Now and then, Charlie stops to inspect some hand-made baubles.  They buy a bag of doughnuts from a German bakery booth and Connor also buys his dad a box of potato pancake mix.

“I thought you said your dad likes take-out?” Charlie teases.

“He’s actually a really good cook but rarely takes the time.”

She’s ready to ask a follow up question when she sees a booth that catches her eye.  The booth is small and run by a little old man who is stooped but smiling.  On his head is a faded Santa hat.  The man is as unremarkable as his wares are outstanding.  Hanging in neat rows behind the man are stained glass ornaments, each one unique and intricately designed.

“Hello there, Miss.”  The old man’s tone is cheery and polite.  

“Hi.  Did you make these?”

“I sure did.  See one you like?”  He holds up a weathered hand, waving at the array displayed.

Charlie’s eyes settle on the perfect ornament almost immediately.  “Yeah, I want that one.”  She points to a simple green tree.

“You sure?  What about this nativity?  It’s far more detailed.”

Charlie shakes her head.  “No.  This one is perfect.”  The ornament is simple, showing a traditional green Christmas tree.  At the top is a small golden star and in the middle of the ornament is a red heart.  Written in careful script across the heart is the word _family_.  

“Perfect,” she says again, stroking a reverent fingertip along the edge of the heart and watching the sunlight filter through the colored glass.

She pays the man and he wraps her purchase in brown paper.  She thanks him before turning to look for Connor.  

She finds him flirting with two girls wearing very short, weather-inappropriate skirts and way too much lip gloss.  

Charlie smirks and walks up to him, putting her arms around his shoulders.  “Hey, Sexy.  I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.”

Connor scowls at her.  “Sorry, _Dear_.  Ready to go?”

She laughs at the twin pouts that form on the girls’ faces before they walk away.  

“What the hell did you do that for?” Connor gives her a similar pout.

Charlie just smiles at him.  “You weren’t really interested in those brainless twits, were you?  You know you can do way better.”

“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t planning on getting married or anything.” Connor rolls his eyes, causing Charlie to chuckle.

“No.  You can’t go hooking up with strange girls,” she warns.  “Not this week.  What the hell would I do with myself?”

He shrugs.  “You and my dad seemed to hit it off.  I bet he could keep you entertained.”

Her mouth goes dry and her heart hammers as thoughts of all the ways she would like to be entertained by Bass go through her head.  She prays Connor doesn’t notice the blush she feels in her cheeks. “Uh, yeah.  Well, I’m _your_ guest.  I’m sure he has better things to do.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass pulls into his driveway and feels the same rush of satisfaction and achievement that surges through him every time he sees the house he designed and built from the ground up.  The twinkling lights from the Christmas tree that glow through the front windows bring a warm smile to his face.  He loves this house.

The knowledge that Charlie is somewhere inside and that he’ll be seeing her momentarily morphs his smile into a nervous grin.  

“Monroe, you’re an idiot,” he mutters under his breath.  He can’t help himself.  He’s done nothing but think of her all day long.

He parks in the garage, then grabs his briefcase and heads inside.  When he walks into the kitchen, he sees his son leaning against the counter.  “Hey, Kid.”

“Hey, Dad.  Here are your doughnuts.”  Connor holds out a bag, which Bass takes from him.

“There’re five doughnuts in here.  Did you eat the rest?” Bass asks in surprise.  “I didn’t think you liked these that much.”

“Don’t look at me,” Connor says, holding up his hands.  “That was all Charlie.  She wanted to try one and then she couldn’t stop.  It was disgusting, to be honest.”  He ducks as an apple flies at his head.

Bass turns and takes in the vision that is an adorably embarrassed Charlie.  She’s wearing a long, green sweater over black skinny jeans and boots that lace up her calves. Her cheeks are pink and she won’t look him in the eye.  “I was hungry,”  she admits, glaring at Connor.  “And the way I eat isn’t disgusting, jackass.”

Connor snorts. “All I’m saying is, for as little as you are, you sure know how to eat.”

Bass watches, amused, as Charlie’s blush deepens.  He shrugs out of his coat.  “I think a woman with a healthy appetite is very sexy.”

Connor shoves away from the kitchen counter.  “Well, then I’ll leave you two alone because she’s your dream girl.”  He’s still laughing as he leaves the kitchen, stopping only when Charlie punches him in the shoulder.  “Ow!”

Bass grins.  “Looks like you know how to take care of yourself too.”

“Yeah, I do okay,” she sighs, finally looking up and meeting his eyes.  “I am sorry about your doughnuts.  I can get you more?”

“No.  Don’t worry about it.  Are you still going to want dinner?  I was going to order pizza.”

“Depends,” she says with a mischief smirk.

“On?”  He feels a pull deep in his gut.  Damn.  That smirk is going to end him.

“Can we order pepperoni?”

He throws his head back and laughs, watching as Charlie breaks into a wide grin.  “Yeah.  I think that can be arranged,” he says.

Their gaze holds, breaking only when Connor re-enters the room.

 

\---------------

 

The conversation turns to a friendly argument about the best pizza places in Chicago.  They eventually settle on one and Bass orders two large pies.  While they wait for the delivery, they talk about sports and local politics.  Charlie finds that she enjoys Bass’s company as much as Connor’s.  Okay, if she’s honest, all the meaningful eye contact (which luckily Connor doesn’t seem to notice) is putting Bass in a totally different stratosphere from his son.

After dinner, Bass excuses himself to his study to work on some blueprints.  As he leaves the kitchen, he pats Connor on the back and then squeezes Charlie’s shoulder briefly.  It passes in a moment, but Charlie feels a jolt of heat that goes straight to her core.

“What was _that_?” Connor asks, an eyebrow raised, after Bass is gone.

“What was what?” Charlie looks at her beer instead of at Connor.  She attempts to keep her voice even.

“The weird eye contact and the touching.... Holy shit, are you into my dad?!” His tone is incredulous, as if he’s just uttered the most bizarre idea of all time.

“Pfft. Me and your dad?”  Charlie tries her best to sound put off by the thought.  “No way.  That would be weird, right?”

“So weird.”  Connor shudders dramatically.

 

\---------------

 

Charlie doesn’t see much of Bass for the rest of the evening, as he keeps himself busy in his study while she and Connor spend their time in the rec room, playing video games.

“Well, that sucked,” Connor grumbles before tossing his PS4 controller aside.

“You’re just mad ‘cause you lost,” Charlie laughs. “Repeatedly.”

“Next time, I get to pick the game.”

“Why, so I can kick your ass at something else?” Charlie bats her eyelashes at him.  “Bring it on, Bennett.”

He frowns at her and peels himself off the couch. “Whatever, Jerk. I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight, Loser,” Charlie calls after him.  

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight.”

She snickers and watches as her friend walks away before getting up and following suit.

Hours later, Charlie finds herself in bed, unable to sleep.  After five hours of tossing and turning, she is starting to grow desperate.  At first she thought it was the doughnuts and pizza, but she feels fine.  It’s more likely the heat.  For some reason, the temperature has risen over the last couple of hours, and Charlie has stripped down to a tank top and short cotton shorts - and still, she is sweltering.  

“I need water,” she says to herself as she climbs out of bed.

Poking her head out into the hallway and seeing nothing but darkness, she tiptoes out into the hall and quietly makes her way down the stairs.  Once in the kitchen, she grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and takes a long, satisfying drink, then screws the lid back on the bottle and heads back toward the staircase. The thick carpet under her bare feet muffles her steps as she makes her ascent.  

Charlie rounds the corner at the top of the staircase and slams into a warm body.  The light in the hallway is limited to a sliver from a room down the hall, but it’s just enough illumination to show her who she’s run into.

Bass.

And not just Bass.  Half naked Bass.  

She lets out an involuntary cry, which causes him to put a finger to her lips.  

“Shhh.  You’ll wake Connor.”

“Sorry,” she whispers.  “Didn’t know anyone else was up.”

“Clearly,” he says, shamelessly eyeing her up and down, paying particular attention to her long, bare legs.

“I was just…uh…getting a drink.”  Charlie’s voice is lower and breathier than usual as she also takes in the view.  

Bass is wearing red pajama pants - and nothing else.  They are low on his hips and cling to him in a way that accentuates his long, muscular legs and impressive package.  

She takes in a deep, shuddery breath, feeling her body temperature rise yet again, but this time, for entirely different reasons.

“Are you okay?”  Bass takes a step closer and she can’t tear her eyes from his chest.  It’s a perfect chest – toned and sculpted, like a work of art.  Even in the shadow of the darkened hallway, she can see the cut of his pecs.  Clearly, he works out.

She licks her lips and reaches out to touch, not even realizing what she’s doing until her palm meets the smooth, taut skin of his chest.  She feels his heartbeat speed up and lifts her eyes to his.

Heat courses through her fingers, and she yanks her hand away.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have….”

“Shouldn’t have what?” Bass reaches for her wrist and circles it with his fingers.  Slowly, he moves her hand back to where it had been before.  “Don’t be sorry.”

Charlie swallows and looks into his eyes.  Even in the dark, she sees obvious hunger in his stare.

“Bass.” His name leaves her lips as a shaky whisper.  “About last night….”

He watches her closely, his hand still on top of hers, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of her palm - a silent encouragement of sorts for her to go on and say whatever she’s trying to say.

Except that every little stroke from his fingers is making her dizzy.  Clouding her senses.  Making her want to do all sorts of things with him, none of which involve talking.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly in an effort to refocus her thoughts.  And she’s just about to speak again when the sound of a door opening at the opposite end of the hallway grabs her attention.

She gasps, swallowing her words, while she and Bass jerk apart.

Then without another word, they both turn toward their separate rooms.

 

**A/N: Thanks again for all the kind reviews so far! We love hearing what all of you think of this story! We hope you all had a lovely Christmas and that your new year is off to a fantastic start. We know Christmas is over, but we're still having a lot of fun with this fic and are excited to share more with you soon! Stay tuned. And if you have a sec, please leave a review on this chapter. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Charlie takes a little more time with her appearance before leaving her room.  She tells herself that she chose the black pants and snug red sweater because it’s Christmas Eve, and not because she wants to look nice for Bass.

Bass.  Just the thought of him fills her with pulsing desire.  Remembering last night’s encounter in the hallway - the heat of his skin under her fingers, his rich, masculine scent, and the way his voice had gone all husky...she shivers as the memories flood her.

She walks over to the full length mirror and studies her appearance for a minute.  Her hair is long and loose today, and she has decided to wear a little mascara and lip gloss.  Satisfied with what she sees, she slips her bare feet into a pair of black flats and leaves the room, heading downstairs with a determined spring in her steps. She feels good this morning and is well aware that she looks good too; a grin blossoms across her face as she imagines Bass’s reaction.

When she walks into the kitchen, she finds father and son sitting at the kitchen island.  They are eating cinnamon rolls, and Bass is drinking coffee while Connor drinks chocolate milk.  They are laughing about something, but their frivolity comes to a stuttering halt when Charlie enters the kitchen.

Connor chokes on his chocolate milk, and Bass freezes with his steaming coffee cup half way to his lips.  His eyes instantly cloud with lust.  

Charlie feels need jolt through her like an electric shock as Bass proceeds to devour her with his hot blue gaze.  She bites back a smile and greets both of her spectators with a cheery and casual: “Good morning.”

Bass carefully sets down his coffee cup and leans back, lips parted, watching, while Connor jumps up and walks over to Charlie, looking her up and down.  

“Starting to rethink the whole ‘just friends’ thing,” Connor flirts before punching her shoulder playfully.  “Seriously though, you clean up real good.”

“Thanks.” Charlie smirks in return before trailing her gaze back over to Bass.

She watches as he runs a hand roughly along his jaw, and when his searing gaze locks on hers, she feels her knees weaken.  

“Want some...uh - breakfast?”  Bass asks, changing the subject.  His voice is low and coarse.

“Just coffee, I think.”  She moves to the coffee pot and pours a cup.  “Do you have sugar?  I looked yesterday but couldn’t find it.”

“It’s up there.  Blue canister.”  Connor sits back down and points to a corner cabinet before turning his attention back to his cinnamon roll.

Charlie walks to the place he’s indicated and reaches up for the handle.  As she does, her sweater lifts on that side, exposing an expanse of lightly tanned skin.  She thinks nothing of it until Bass is behind her.

“Here, let me help,” he says, resting his heated palm and fingers on her bare side while he reaches up with his other hand to open the cupboard and pull out the sugar.   He sets the item on the counter in front of Charlie, allowing his fingers to linger on her skin longer than is necessary.

“Um, thanks for the sugar,” she says, suddenly breathless.

“You’re welcome.  Need anything else?”

She feels her cheeks heat.  “Not right now.”

His responding chuckle is low and wicked and instantly makes her wet.

Outwardly, however, she tries to maintain a casual expression.   “What do you guys do for Christmas Eve?  Anything special?”

Connor nods.  “I will be doing this thing with my grandparents this afternoon.  After that I’ll meet Dad for the candlelight carols service at church.  You can come to the church service if you want.”  He turns to his dad.  “Can you keep her occupied while I go see Gramps and Nana?"

“Sure.  I’m sure we can find something to do.”  Bass’s eyes light up with something that Charlie can only describe as hunger.

Oh sweet baby Jesus, Charlie thinks.  She’s screwed.

Connor seems oblivious to the sexual undercurrents in the room, but Charlie’s body hums with all the possibilities of Bass’s double entendre.  Realistically, she knows nothing will probably happen, but she loves imagining all the sinfully delicious things they could do to occupy the afternoon.

Bass finishes his coffee and puts the empty cup in the kitchen sink.  He turns back around and smiles.  “I’m going to the market to pick up some things for dinner tomorrow night.  I’ll be back before you need to leave, Connor.”

“Going to the market?” Connor asks skeptically around a mouthful of cinnamon roll.  “Why?  We usually order from Lou’s for Christmas.”

Bass shrugs.  “Thought maybe we could do something special this year.  What do you think?”  His question is posed to his son, but his eyes are on Charlie’s once more.

“Special?” Connor looks from his dad to Charlie and back.  “Okay…yeah, whatever.  Charlie, let’s play video games while he’s gone.  I’m all rested and revved up and ready to kick your ass.”

Charlie tears her eyes from Bass’s and nods at Connor.  “I wouldn’t get so cocky just yet.  I’m feeling pretty revved up too.”

Bass chuckles without commenting and leaves the kitchen.

 

\---------------

 

Charlie and Connor are in the middle of a rather intense game of Star Wars Battlefront when Connor suddenly hits pause.

“What the hell?!” Charlie barks, throwing a glare at her friend.  “Why did you…?” She fails to complete her question when she notices the serious look on Connor’s face.  “What?” She asks, almost hesitantly, before setting her controller aside.

“We need to talk, I think.”

“Now?” Charlie feels her heart rate increase. Uh oh.

“Yeah, now.”

“Okay.  What do you want to talk about?”

“I know you think I’m all beauty and no brains…” Connor snarks before continuing, “but there’s more to Connor Bennett than a hot bod and killer smile.”

“Well, we both know it’s not talent in the video game department,” Charlie teases back, but she suddenly feels uneasy.

Connor rolls his eyes.  “What I’m saying is, I’m not stupid.  If I wasn’t sitting in the kitchen this morning, I’m pretty sure you and my dad would have jumped each other right there in the middle of the cinnamon rolls.”

Charlie’s eyes grow wide. “What?  Connor, I don’t know–”  

“No.  No bullshit, Charlie,”  he cuts her off, his tone more serious than she’s ever heard.  “What are your intentions with my dad?”

Whoa. What?

“Excuse me?”  She croaks out. Of all the ways this conversation could go, this is not at all the direction she had expected. “My...intentions?  What are you talking about?”

Connor’s expression grows increasingly stern. “My dad hasn’t dated anyone in years, Charlie.  But he’s looking at you like he really likes you and now he’s planning to make Christmas dinner?  That never occurred to him when it was just us.  It’s you.”

“I don’t think it’s like that,” she tries to insist.  “He’s a flirt, that’s all.”

“No.  That’s not all.”  Connor throws his controller down and stands.  “My dad is a good guy.  He works his ass off and I’ve been bugging him to get out there and meet someone for years.  Women are interested.  He’s had a lot of chances, but he never seemed interested.  Never has time.”  Connor begins to pace.  “I just don’t want him to fall for you and then you leave and go back to school and your life and leave him behind.”

“Connor, nothing is going on.  Not really.  I promise.”

“I’m not sure if you’re lying to me or to yourself,”  he sighs and flops back down on the couch.  His eyes soften a bit, but there’s a weightedness in his voice when he says, “Don’t break his heart, Charlie.  Just don’t break his heart.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass has just loaded the last bulging canvas grocery bag into the trunk of his car when his cell rings.  “Yeah,” he answers, not bothering to look at the display.

“Merry Christmas, Asshole,”  Miles laughs.

Bass slams the trunk closed and smiles.  “Not Christmas yet.”

“Whatever.  We’re gonna be busy with Nora’s family tomorrow and I may not have time to call you then.  Wanted to say hello before we are invaded.”

“Sounds, uh, fun?”

“No.   _Not_ fun.  You’d think Nora is the first woman in the history of ever to get pregnant.”

“How so?” Bass slides into the driver’s seat and turns the ignition, relaxing into the supple leather as the heat fills the car.  He’s in no hurry to get on the road.

“Well, I guess Nora’s sister Mia and their mom are bringing a fucking u-haul full of stuff for the baby.  It’s a small u-haul, but still!” Miles sounds amazed.  He also sounds a little drunk, Bass notes.

“Hey Miles?  You at the bar?  It’s like 4pm on Christmas Eve.”

“I just needed a break before hell breaks loose.  That’s all.  Once Nora’s mom is at the house, she’ll be frowning and shaking her head every time I even look at a bottle.”

“So, you’re saying she does that a lot?” Bass grins at his friend’s obvious discomfort.

“Yeah, whatever.  Nora’s worth it.  Hey, what are you up to anyway?  Am I hearing traffic?”

“I’m in the parking lot at the market.  Just loaded up on everything I need to make the Monroe traditional Christmas dinner.”

There is a long pause and then Miles finally speaks.  “You mean like your mom made?  With the honey roasted ham and the candied apples and all that shit?”

“Yeah.”

“Screw Nora’s family.  I’m coming to Chicago.”

“No way.  Nora would kill me.  Besides, we don’t have room for any more guests.”

“Wait.  You never cook.  What’s going on?  And what do you mean no room for more guests?”

“Connor’s – uh – friend is staying with us.  I told you about her, right?”

“Wait.   _Her_?” Miles sounds like he’s had an epiphany.  “Oh my God.  You have the hots for one of your kid’s friends?”  He’s laughing - hard.

“Shut up.  It’s not like that.”

“So I guess that means you didn’t get the ingredients for that caramel cream pie that your mom slaved over?”

Bass doesn’t answer.  He leans his head against the headrest and closes his eyes.

“Oh shit.  You did?”

“Shut up, Asshole, and merry Christmas to you too.”  Bass disconnects the call before Miles can laugh any louder.  

 

\---------------

 

“So, what’s the thing you do with your grandparents on Christmas Eve?” Charlie asks Connor while he gets ready to leave.  

He buttons his winter coat and pulls on a pair of gloves.  “We go to my mom’s gravesite together.  It probably sounds stupid, but it’s tradition.”

“Your dad doesn’t go with you?”

“Nah.  He and my mom weren’t ever serious.  She never even told him about me till she got sick.  The truth is she was engaged to his best friend when she got pregnant with me.  My grandparents aren’t Dad’s biggest fans, and the feeling is mutual.  They thought my mom made a mistake getting involved with Dad to begin with.  He’s still angry that they helped her keep me a secret all those years,”  Connor sighs.  “It’s complicated, I guess.”

“Well, I hope your time with them today is nice.   Or at least, as nice as it can be.”

“It will be.  We share favorite Christmas memories and talk about her.  It’s pretty sappy, I guess.  Makes me feel close to her though.  They’re old and not in great health.  We aren’t close, really.  We meet up a few times a year….”

“You miss her a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I miss her.”  He smiles, but the smile never quite reaches his eyes.  “Dad says it doesn’t ever go away.  He was older when his folks died, but he still misses them.”

“I can’t even imagine.  If I lost my dad….”  She trails off, shaking her head.

“What about your mom?”

“I would be upset, but we’re not close.  Not like my dad and I are.”

“Families are complicated,” Connor says, putting an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “When I first met my dad, it was weird.  I knew I was supposed to love him, but he was a stranger.”

Charlie studies Connor’s face closely. “And now?”

He smiles at her. “He’s all I have, Charlie.  He’s not just my dad.  He’s my best friend.”

 

\---------------

 

When Bass gets back to the house, he takes the groceries into the kitchen and begins to put them away.  Charlie walks in after a while.  “Hey.” He greets her with a smile.

She looks surprised to see him.  “You’re back.”

“Yeah.  I see Connor left already?” He tries to hold her gaze, but she looks away.  Something is wrong.

“You just missed him.”  Charlie glances at the groceries.  “Need any help?”

“No.  Almost done.”  He watches as she chews on her lip, and he feels uneasy, wishing he knew why her attitude toward him has suddenly changed.

“I can tell you’re busy.  I’ll just go read or something.”

Bass puts away the last of the groceries and looks at Charlie.  “I’m not busy, and I promised Connor I’d entertain you.  How about we get out of here?”

She looks uncertain.  “Where do you want to go?”

“Get your coat and put on some boots.  I’ll show you.”

She does as he asks and then they get into Bass’s Mercedes. The stereo is still cranked up from his grocery run.  The sounds of _Kashmir_ fill the car, and Bass reaches for the controls.  “Sorry about that.”

She grabs his wrist before he can change the song.  “Don’t be sorry.”  Their eyes meet, and they are both reminded of the night before when she’d been the one apologizing to him.  “Zeppelin is one of my favorite bands ever.” She grins.

Bass feels the tension fading from his body.  He smiles slowly. “Yeah?  Not too old school for you?”

Charlie gives his wrist a light squeeze.  “I happen to love old school.”

Bass exhales and nods.  “Good to know.”

 

\---------------

 

The rest of the ride is uneventful, but the atmosphere isn’t as tense as it had been before.  Charlie watches out the window as they drive along.  She takes in the Christmas decorations.  The afternoon is overcast and the lights glitter against the grayness of the day.

When Bass pulls his car into a driveway, Charlie is surprised as she takes in the beautiful Victorian home that sits atop a gradual hill.  The lawn is spacious.  Old sycamores tower over the driveway and yard.  

“Who lives here?”

“Nobody, yet.”  Bass smiles and she can see excitement and pride sparkling in his eyes.  He gets out and runs around the car, opening Charlie’s door for her.  “Come on.”  He holds out his hand and she takes it.  

The snow has not been cleared and she’s glad he’d suggested boots.  They trudge through the snow and make their way to the porch.  Bass fishes a key ring out of his pocket and opens the door.

Charlie follows.  She removes her boots after seeing Bass take off his own.  He turns on a light and the interior of the home fills with a warm, golden glow.  She looks around, taking in the ornate woodwork, built-in book cases and plate glass windows.  

“This is so beautiful,” she says.

“You like it?”  His face lights up.  “I’ve been working on this for the past six months.  When the owner purchased the place, it was run-down.  Someone had turned it into apartments back in the sixties.  We ripped out two kitchens, and gutted the one on the main floor, starting over.  We gutted all the bathrooms, moved the main staircase back to its original location, replaced all the windows and doors.  Before the weather got bad, we put on a new roof and new siding and rebuilt the front and back porches.”

“It’s amazing.  I can tell you really take pride in your work.”  Charlie reaches out to stroke the carvings in the fireplace mantle.

“Yeah, I do.  I try to anyway.  I approach each project as if I’m creating my own home.  I won’t settle for second best anything.  It has to be perfect.”

“Looks like this is well on its way to being finished.  How much longer?”

“Maybe two months left.  We’re still finishing the kitchen and the den.  But what I really want to show you is upstairs.”

His excitement is contagious and she can’t help but grin.  “Okay.  Show me.”  She shivers just a little.  The house is warmer than the outdoors, but not by much.

He pulls off his coat and wraps it around her shoulders.  “Sorry.  I know it’s chilly.”

“You don’t have to – ”  Charlie starts to take the coat off.

“I want to.”  He takes the lapels of the wool coat and pulls them together under her chin.  

Charlie’s breath hitches when his gaze falls to her lips.

He seems to catch himself.  His hands fall to his sides, and he nods toward the wide oak staircase.  “Follow me.”

They take two flights of stairs, emerging on the third floor landing.  He leads her to the end of the hallway and through a door that leads into a long, narrow room.  The wall opposite the door is solid windows and the view is spectacular.  

“Wow.” Charlie is awestruck as she marvels at the view. The Chicago skyline is lit like jewels against the murky gray of this overcast afternoon. “What is this room?” She asks.  

“It will be a study.  The woman who bought this house is a writer and plans to use this room for her writing.”

“It’s…I don’t even know what it is.”  She walks to the wall of windows and looks out.  Bass comes up behind her and as they watch, fat, crystalline snowflakes begin to fall.  “This is like being inside a snow globe,” she finishes.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?” She replies absently, attention still seized by her surroundings.

“What happened today?  You seem distant since I got back from the store.”

She turns to Bass and frowns.  “I’m sorry.  Lots on my mind, I guess.”

“Did I do something wrong?”  He reaches out and pushes a long lock of hair behind her ear.

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”  She shakes her head.

“Then what?”

Charlie takes a deep breath and looks up to meet his gaze.  His blue eyes are focused solely on her and, she feels like she’s drowning in the intensity she sees within them.  

“Bass, what’s going on here?”  She answers his question with a question of her own.  “I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know why I feel this way.  I don’t even know you.  Not really.”

“Feel what way?”  His voice has gone lower, quieter.  His expression is serious.  “Tell me, Charlotte.  How do you feel?”

“When I’m with you, I feel….”

He takes a step closer.  “What do you feel?”

“Like I’m safe and content.”

“Oh.” He drops his hands, his face becoming overcast with disappointment.   

“You didn’t let me finish.  You make me feel safe and content, and….”

“And?”

“And I’ve never been this attracted to anyone before.”  Her eyes flit down to his throat and she watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows.

Bass places a finger under her chin and tilts her face up.  His eyes are hot.  “It’s not just you, Charlie.  I feel the same way, and believe me – I don’t do this.  I’ve never felt this way about one of Connor’s friends before.  The truth is it’s been a long time since I felt like this at all.”

“Really?” She’s positive the look on her face is one of uncertainty and conflict.

“Yes, but what happened today?  I thought we kind of had a moment…a few of them, actually.”

“Connor,”  Charlie sighs, biting her lip.  “I adore Connor.  He’s such a good friend and I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You think this would hurt him?”  

“He picked up on this thing that’s happening between us.  He’s worried.  Told me today not to break your heart.  He’s afraid that I’ll hurt you without meaning to.”

“Hurt me, how?”  Bass takes a step closer, taking her hand in his.

She squeezes his hand.  “He doesn’t want you to be sad.  That’s all.  Neither do I.”

Bass smiles knowingly. “Charlotte, I love Connor more than life itself, but he needs to mind his own business.”  And before Charlie can respond to that statement, he pulls her close and lowers his mouth to hers.  

The kiss is gentle and sweet at first.  He slants his mouth over hers and although she hesitates for a moment, she can’t deny him.  Moaning softly against his mouth, she succumbs to his warm lips and each heated stroke of his tongue.

The air around them no longer feels chilled.  Charlie lets Bass’s coat fall to the ground at her feet.  He winds his arms more tightly around her and she whimpers as he trails tiny bites along her jaw.

Reluctantly, Bass pulls away. “We need to go,” he pants, using his thumb to gently follow the trail he’d made with his teeth.  “We’re meeting Connor at church.”

“Church,” she echoes with a heavy sigh.  

 

\---------------

 

They meet Connor on the front steps of St. Mark’s Church.  It’s an old stone church with turrets and a bell tower.  Charlie feels out of place, but curious at the same time.  Her parents have never been church goers so the idea of this evening Christmas service is intriguing.

Connor looks at Charlie and then at Bass.  “Hey guys.  Everything go okay?”

Charlie nods.  “Yeah.  How about you? Did you have a nice time with your grandparents?”

“It was okay.”  Connor looks at them strangely and then shakes his head.  “Hey.  You have lip gloss on your teeth.”

“Oh.” Charlie rubs a finger along her front teeth.

“Wasn’t talking to you, Charlie.”  Connor turns and heads into the church without waiting for a reaction.

Bass licks his teeth.  “Shit.”  He glances at Charlie.  Her eyes are wide and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  “Guess our secret is out.”

Charlie nods.  “Yeah.  Guess so.  Did he look mad?  I think he looked mad.”

“Come on.  We’ll talk to him after.”  Bass leads her inside.

They shake hands with the priest and are handed candles.  Bass leads Charlie to the pew where Connor is already sitting, and Charlie slides in next to her friend.  “We okay?”

Connor faces forward, his lips pressed together in a straight, grim line.  “Yeah, sure.”

Charlie frowns and turns her attention to the front.

The service starts.  The priest tells a part of the nativity story and then the congregation breaks out into song.  From the first moment that she hears his voice, Charlie is amazed at how beautifully Bass sings.  She supposes it shouldn’t be a big surprise.  Connor is an excellent singer, and the talent obviously came from somewhere.  

Standing between the two men as they sing is a breathtaking experience.  Connor’s voice is strong and sure.  But Bass.  His singing voice is low and resonant and is sexy as hell.  When he begins to sing a baritone harmony line to _O, Come, O Come Emmanuel_ , Charlie’s heart swells with something she can’t even explain.  He sings from his heart and when she glances his way, seeing his profile in the flickering candlelight, she sees the sincerity in his expression.  This is a man who does everything wholly.  When he does something - welcoming a son he didn’t know, embracing a holiday that had caused him pain, decorating a towering tree, kissing, loving - when he does something, _anything_ , he does it with all of his being, with all of his heart.  That’s why Connor is worried, Charlie realizes, but now she begins to worry as well.

The truth is that Connor may have had it all wrong.  Her own heart - not Bass’s - might be what’s at stake here.  It shouldn’t be possible, but she’s falling fast and hard for Bass Monroe.

Turning back to face the front, she quietly sings along, her mind drifting to some place far away.

When the service ends and the candles are extinguished and the overhead lights come back on, the place begins to buzz with smiling people who greet each other fondly.  Charlie doesn’t know anyone other than Connor and Bass, but she still enjoys all the spirited holiday chatter.

Connor seems to have decided not to dwell on the issue he has with Charlie and his dad.  He puts his arm around his friend’s shoulders and says,  “You ready to get out of here?  We need to make sure we’re all sound asleep when Santa comes.”  His eyes twinkle and his boyish grin warms Charlie’s heart.

“Santa, huh?  How old are you, six?”  She’s looking up at Connor and laughing when a hand comes to rest on her forearm.  The hand belongs to a tiny old woman.

She is withered and gray but her smile is wide and sunny.  She’s wearing a bright green sweater with a big red bow on the front.  “I just had to come over here and say hello, Connor,” she says.  “It’s so nice to see you youngsters in love.”

Charlie freezes.  She can feel Bass’s presence immediately behind her.  She knows he’s hearing this conversation, and her heart pounds as she struggles to think of just the right thing to say.

Connor saves her from the moment with a big, smooth grin.  “Mrs. Carmichael, you know my heart only belongs to you!  Charlie is just a good friend.  You have nothing to worry about.”

Mrs. Carmichael blushes sweetly.  “Oh, Connor, you big flirt.  You haven’t changed since the first time your dad brought you here when you were still just a boy.”  She pats his hand and then peers around him to look at his father.  “Mr. Monroe, how are you these days?”

Bass’s voice is clear and friendly.  “Can’t complain, Ma’am.  Life is good.”

“When will you be bringing a lady friend around?  Hate to see you all alone now that Connor is off at school.  Handsome devil such as yourself probably has to beat them off with sticks.”

“Uh, well….” Bass falters.  “We’ll just have to see, I guess.  I keep pretty busy.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do, Dear.  Don’t forget that there’s more to life than work.  Work to live.  Don’t live to work.  That’s what my Walter always said.”  Her smile fades sadly.

“Walter was a good man,”  Bass says with a sober nod.

“He was indeed, and you know what?  I don’t regret one moment I spent with him.  He was the love of my life,”  she sighs.  “Sorry.  Enough sad talk.  Phyllis is waiting for me so I must go.  Have a happy Christmas!”

“You too, Mrs. Carmichael.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass stares blankly at the road straight ahead as he drives home.  Charlie had opted to ride with Connor, hoping to figure out what he was thinking and if everything was okay with her friend.  Bass isn’t worried about Connor.  He figures the kid will roll with the punches, and if Charlie makes Bass happy, then Connor will be on board.

Regardless, Bass can’t shake that sinking feeling he’d had when old Mrs. Carmichael had assumed Connor and Charlie were a couple.  Bass can make out with her in secret or flirt with her over the kitchen table and forget all about the fact that he’s twice her age.  The problem isn’t when it’s just the two of them.  The problem is that out in the real world, the age difference matters.

To some people, it could matter a lot.  If he were the kind of guy who could just have a fling, maybe this would all be fine.  He hasn’t been that guy in a very long time.  He doesn’t know if he can do it again.  He doesn’t know that he even wants to.

Bass slams his palm against the steering wheel.  “Fuck!”

 

\---------------

 

Charlie doesn’t see Bass again before she heads to her room.  As she changes into pajamas and slides between her sheets, her brow twists with worry.  What did she do wrong?  She thought things were better.  She’d had some doubts, but between Bass’s pep talk and a long, honest conversation with Connor on the way back from church, she’s not worried about that anymore.

In fact, she had been excited to share her and Connor’s conversation with Bass, but he’d holed up in his study as soon as he got home.  She waited two hours, flipping channels in the living room.  He never emerged.  

Now, for the third night in a row, she is tossing and turning.  She’s been listening for his footsteps in the hall but has heard nothing.  He’s probably still in his study, reading or whatever it is he’s doing to avoid her.  She throws off the covers with a growl.

Charlie wants answers.  She walks out of her room, padding down the hall in bare feet.  If he’s decided he’s not interested, the least he can do is say so to her face.

She walks purposefully downstairs and to the door of his study.  It’s open and the room is dark.  Next, she checks the kitchen.  It, too, is empty and full of shadows.  Charlie sees the subtle glow from the living room and knows where he is.  Slowly, she makes her way to the living room.  She leans against the doorframe, watching him.  He’s wearing his glasses and the red pajama pants again, and he’s pulling wrapped presents from a large tub, then carefully arranging them under the tree.

She doesn’t say anything but takes advantage of this rare moment when she can watch him unaware.  He is intent on his task.  After a couple moments, though, he seems to sense her presence and looks up.  “Hey,” he says simply, his voice and eyes guarded.

“Hey,” she answers.  She takes several steps into the room but keeps her distance, wishing she knew what was on his mind.  “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”  He nods toward the tubs.  “Just putting out the gifts.”

“Need any help?”

“No.”  He goes back to his work, effectively shutting her out.

This time, annoyance flares inside her chest.  Answers, damn it.  She came down here to get answers, and she’s not about to leave until she does.  “Did I do something wrong?”

Bass jerks his head up, surprise evident in his features when he hears her direct question and less than cordial tone.  “No.  Of course not.”

“Then you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on, because I don’t understand.  Why are you avoiding me tonight?”

“I’m not – ” he starts but stops when he sees Charlie grit her teeth.  “Okay, maybe I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m forty-four years old, Charlie, and tonight at church someone thought you were my kid’s girlfriend.”

“But I’m not.”  She walks closer still.  They are a mere three feet apart.  She looks up at him with a challenging glint in her eye.  “I’m nobody’s girlfriend.”

“But the age thing….”  He grips the gift in his hands tightly.

“Means nothing to me.”  She closes the distance between them.  “Nothing.”

“We live in different worlds,” he tells her, but his actions are doing nothing to dissuade her.  He tosses the present aside, and when she moves even closer, he wraps his arms around her.

“So?”  She presses both palms against his bare chest, slowly rubbing them downward and then sliding them around his back.

“This won’t work, Charlotte.  It can’t last.”

“Maybe.  Maybe not.  How about instead of worrying about the stuff that doesn’t sound easy, we just worry about the stuff that is?”

“What’s easy about anything between us?” His pupils expand behind his glasses as she begins to rub lazy circles against his lower back.

“This.”  She leans up on her tiptoes and presses her lips softly to his.  She feels him tense, but she’s not going to let him second guess this.  Charlie slides her fingers lower, toying with the waistband of his pajamas.  

She feels the exact moment that he gives in to her.  He kisses her back, his touch tender, careful.  He threads his fingers into her hair and tilts her head so that he can slide his tongue between her parted lips.

Charlie runs her hands along his lower back, tracing his spine.  She moans as his hands move down her body.  Bass cups her ass, pulling her closer.  Charlie feels the evidence of his arousal pressing into her belly.

Bass moves his lips to the corner of her mouth and then on down to her throat.  “You taste so good,” he whispers as he trails kisses along her jawbone.

She arches into his touch as he slides a hand over her ass.  He runs his hands down her sides and then up again to cup her breasts gently through the thin fabric of her nightshirt.  Charlie’s nipples harden at his touch.

Charlie is breathless and eager.  Too eager.  She takes a step and loses her footing.  Bass catches her but not before she bumps into the tree and one of the ornaments gets knocked from its branch.  And not just any ornament - a Baker ornament.  This particular Baker ornament is another Santa figure.  This one has a stripper perched on his lap.  When the bauble hits the floor, the sound chip is activated.  Hearing a tiny little Santa voice say: “All I want for Christmas is BOOBS!” breaks the mood better than a bucket of ice water could have done.

They look at each other in shock and then burst into laughter, the tension in the room fading away.  He pulls her close once again, but it is a different embrace than the one before.  Less heated.  Sweeter.  

“I like you, Charlie,” Bass confesses.  “I really like you.”

“Mmm, like you too, Bass,”  she sighs, looking deep into his eyes.  “Probably more than I should.”

“Good.”  He dips to kiss her once more.  This kiss is short and chaste but somehow feels more meaningful than all that preceded it.  “We have a big day tomorrow.  Should probably call it a night.”

She nods, a faint smile gracing her lips as she reaches up and straightens his glasses on his face.  “Tomorrow is Christmas Day.”

“Indeed, it is.”

“I’m glad I’m here, Bass.  I’m really glad I’m here with you for Christmas.”

Bass grins.  “Me too, Charlie.  Me too.”

 

**A/N: Big apologies on the delay between updates! You all can blame me (Romeo) for that. Things have been a bit nutty in RL, and my muse ended up paying for it. But hopefully things will get back to normal soon enough. We still have a few chapters and an epilogue planned for this, so we hope you'll stick around and keep reading! We really appreciate your comments and support so far! And if you have a moment, we would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter as well. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So we know Christmas is long over, but we appreciate your continued support of this fic! This chapter is a bit lengthy, but we think you'll enjoy it. ;) Thanks again for reading, everyone! We still have a couple more chapters and an epilogue in the works, so stay tuned! And, as always, reviews are much appreciated. We really enjoy hearing what you think! ~ Lemon & Romeo **

* * *

 

Bass can’t contain the enormous grin on his face as he heads downstairs on Christmas morning.  It’s still early, and the house is quiet as he pads into his living room.  His smile grows even wider when he opens the drapes, taking in the sight of fresh snow as it falls.  The whole front yard is covered in a spotless blanket of white, and new flakes continue their lazy descent.  It’s a picture perfect winter morning and the start of what Bass suspects will be a great day. Maybe even the best Christmas he’s had in years.

A happy sigh leaves his lips as his eyes trail over to the Christmas tree - all the gifts arranged underneath it, and he chuckles under his breath, recalling last night’s encounter with Charlie.  His lips and skin still tingle with the memory of her kisses and touches, and if he’s honest, he can’t wait to have her in his arms again.

He heads into the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee, then begins pulling out various items and ingredients from the fridge and pantry.  Pancakes, he decides.  He’ll make pancakes this morning.

 

\---------------

 

Charlie wakes to the sound of her cell phone buzzing on the nightstand.  She picks it up and squints at the screen, then giggles at the goofy picture of Danny she uses as his caller ID.

“Merry Christmas, Noodle Brain.”  Her voice is still hoarse with sleep as she greets her brother with the nickname she’s had for him since they were kids.

“Back at’cha, Spaghetti Head,” Danny fires back with a chuckle.  “How’s your morning so far?”

“Well, it’s just getting started. I’m still in bed,” Charlie yawns and pushes back the covers.  “How are you?”

“Let’s just say…I’m not nearly drunk enough.”

“At 8:45 in the morning? Spoken like a true Matheson,” Charlie laughs.

“No, you don’t understand.  It’s not even 9 yet, and Mom and Dad are already arguing.”

Charlie shakes her head and sits up.  “Why am I not surprised? What are they arguing about now?”

“Who the hell knows? I’m trying to tune it out.”

“And is that working?”

“Mostly.  Doesn’t mean it’s not annoying, though.   You’re so lucky you’re not here,” Danny sighs.  “Hell, I almost thought about taking an impromptu trip down to Chicago and spending the rest of Christmas with you.  Who wants to be stuck here with them?  Except that the roads still suck, so driving down’s not exactly an option.”

“The roads are still bad, huh?”

“Yeah.  Although, they’re saying it’s gonna rain tonight, so by tomorrow, it all might clear up.  You should drive up if that happens.”

“Maybe,” Charlie says, pushing her fingers through her hair.

“Well, jeez. You don’t have to sound so excited about it,” Danny teases.  “Didn’t realize you were so attached to your dorm room.”

Charlie rolls her eyes.  “I’m not at the dorms, Dumbass.”

“Mom said you were.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t talked to Mom in a few days. My plans changed.”

“So where are you?”

“At my friend Connor’s house,” she explains.  “Speaking of which, I should go. I don’t want to seem like a rude house guest.  Try not to lose your sanity, despite Mom and Dad’s fighting?”

“That's a tall order, Sis.”

“You’ve survived this long.  You’ll be fine.  I have faith in you.”

“Well, thanks,” Danny says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

Charlie wishes him a merry Christmas again, then ends the call and sets her phone back on the nightstand.

She can hear Bass and Connor’s muffled chatter coming from downstairs and she smiles.  As much as she misses her brother and feels bad that he’s stuck with their bickering parents, she has a feeling her Christmas morning is going to be a lot better than the one Danny is currently experiencing.

She showers quickly and dresses in jeans and a comfy white sweater.  When she opens her bedroom door, the aroma of pancakes and bacon immediately greets her.  Smiling, she heads downstairs and walks into the kitchen - then stops short, her smile morphing into a look of amusement as she takes in the scene before her.  

Bass is standing at the stove with his back to the kitchen entrance while Connor leans against the counter, shoving enormous bites of pancake into his mouth as fast as he can.  He looks up and smiles around a bulging mouthful of breakfast.

Charlie takes a couple steps closer, trying hard not to laugh.  “Morning, Connor.”

He nods as he fills his fork with another bite.

Charlie has watched Connor eat many times but she’s never known her friend to eat like this.  “Are you part squirrel or something? Preparing for winter hibernation?”

Bass turns then, and when his eyes meet hers, she forgets all about Connor and his pancakes.  “Hi,” she greets him.

“Good morning.” Bass’s eyes sparkle as he motions toward Connor.  “You’ll have to excuse my son and his lack of manners.  He can’t open gifts until he finishes his breakfast.”

Charlie smiles, understanding.  “I see.  Any chance you have some extra pancakes?  I’m kind of hungry.”

“Of course.” Bass hands her a plate piled high with steaming, fluffy cakes.

“Mmmm,” she says, slathering them with butter and pouring maple syrup on top.  “These smell amazing.”

Connor gulps down his glass of milk and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  “They are good, Charlie, but hurry up.  I wanna open presents.”

Charlie narrows her eyes at him, defiance suddenly spreading across her features.  “Well, I don’t like to hurry.  I like to take it slow and savor every bite.”  She puts a fork-full into her mouth and closes her eyes, chewing slowly.  “Mmmm.”  She licks her lips and moans theatrically.  “Amazing.”

“Shut up and eat!” Connor growls.

Charlie laughs and readies another bite but stops abruptly when she sees the way Bass is looking at her.  She maintains eye contact as she takes her second bite.  Bass watches intently, his eyes flaming with barely restrained need.

He doesn’t say a word, but words aren’t necessary.  Charlie knows what he’s thinking.  He’s just as eager as Connor is - but not for presents.

Eventually, everyone finishes eating, and after tidying up the kitchen, Bass leads the way to the living room with Connor and Charlie following him.

The tree, all lit up, twinkles and looks stunning against the backdrop of falling snow outside the large bay window.  Bass flips a switch and the space fills with the luxurious sounds of Frank Sinatra’s _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_.  Bass then sits on the floor next to the tree.  Connor follows suit as well and motions for Charlie to join them.

“We sit on the floor?”  Charlie grins at the informality of it all.  She thinks about the structured Matheson gift exchange that Danny is going through right about now and is glad to be exactly where she is.

“Yep.  Always have,” Connor says.  “And I go first, because I’m the youngest.”  He reaches for a gift with his name on it.

“No, Connor.”  Bass stops him.  “Charlie is the youngest this year.”  He finds a gift and hands it to her. “So she gets to go first.”

“What?” Charlie frowns. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Just open it,” Connor pouts.

When she actually glances at the tag, she sees that the gift is from Connor.  A grin spreads across her face and she starts to carefully pick at the wrapping paper until Connor yells, “Just rip it open!”

Bass laughs as Charlie does exactly that.  Inside the package she finds a pair of fluffy red mittens with faux sheepskin lining.  “Oh, Connor.  These are awesome. Thanks. I love them.”

“Good.  Glad you like them.  My turn!” Connor reaches for the present his dad is holding out, and has the paper ripped clear almost before Bass has retracted his hand.  “Pretty sure I know what this is,” Connor singsongs.  “Yes!”  He cheers as his suspicions are confirmed.  The box contains a state-of-the-art wireless microphone.  “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome, Kid.”  Bass offers his son a warm smile. “That is the one you wanted, right?”

“It is. And here’s one for you.” Connor holds out a box for his dad.

Bass takes it and leans back against the couch as he opens the wrapping paper.  Inside the box is a bottle of Templeton Rye.  Bass leans over and pats Connor on the back.  “Thanks, Connor.  I’ll definitely have some of this later.”

The next round of gifts includes a scarf and hat for Charlie that match her mittens, tickets to an upcoming Portugal.The Man concert for Connor, and a Bulls hoodie for Bass.

Charlie is having a fantastic time and honestly can’t remember the last time she had this much fun during a Christmas morning gift exchange.  Between each gift, they joke and laugh, and when Connor isn’t looking, she finds her gaze drawn to Bass.  He’s always looking at her, she realizes.  And the heat she sees in his stare each time almost makes her wish the gift exchange was over.

“It’s my turn to give my gifts,” she finally announces, handing Connor a small wrapped box.

He grins as he opens it.  Then, seeing what’s inside, he looks up with a raised eyebrow. “A necklace?”

Charlie shrugs, suddenly unsure of the gift.  “It’s a St. Cecilia medal.  She’s the patron saint of music.  It’s for luck.”  

Connor takes the item out of the box and studies it, his eyes filling with understanding. A smile forms on his face. “This is really great, Charlie.  Thank you.”

“You’re sure? You like it?”

“I do.” He opens the clasp and hangs it around his neck.

Charlie smiles back at him, relieved, but her nerves return as she finds the gift she’d picked out for Bass at the market.  It is wrapped in simple silver paper.  “Here.  This one is for you.”

Bass takes the small package from her and as their fingers touch, they both feel a spark of electricity pass between them.  Charlie bites her bottom lip and pulls her hand away.  

She waits with bated breath as he opens the small gift. She watches him as he stares at the stained glass tree ornament once it’s uncovered.  He looks at it for a long time without speaking, and Charlie starts to get nervous, wishing she’d found something more elaborate.  But then he looks up.  And when he does, his eyes are wet.  “Thank you, Charlotte,” he chokes out.  “This is perfect.”

Her face erupts with a satisfied smile at that, and she nods. “You’re welcome.  I’m glad you like it.”

Connor picks up his presents and heads toward the stairs.  “I’ll be back down to watch the movie in a few minutes.  I want to put my stuff away.”

Charlie begins to collect her own things as well when Bass stops her.  “Hey.  Did you think I wouldn’t get you something?”  He tilts his head to one side, his expression curious.

She feels butterflies in her stomach. “Well, I mean...I wasn’t expecting you to get me anything.”

Bass smirks and reaches behind the tree, pulling out one more gift.  “Open this.”

Charlie’s hands shake slightly as she opens the smooth red box.  Inside there are layers of emerald green tissue paper.  She gasps when she sees the book under the tissue.  It is a gorgeous leather-bound copy of _My Dearest Friend – the Letters of John and Abigail Adams_.

“Bass, I love this.”  She picks up the book and opens it slowly, running a reverent finger along the inscription: _Merry Christmas, Charlotte.  I’ve never been happier about a bad snowstorm in my life. - Bass_

“What is it?” Connor asks as he walks back into the room.

“Your dad gave me this book.  John Adams and his wife were separated for long periods of time, but they wrote these amazing letters to each other.”

“So you’ve read it before?” Connor is clearly unimpressed.

“Well, yeah.  A few times.  It’s one of my favorites.  But all I have is a paperback copy.  This one is so beautiful.” Her eyes rise up to meet Bass’s again and she smiles.

Connor rolls his eyes.  “You guys are lame.”

“You’re lame,” Charlie chuckles as she gathers up her gifts and heads upstairs to put them away.

 

\---------------

 

They spend a good portion of the day lounging around in the living room, watching Christmas movies, and then the guys switch over to the NBA Christmas Special.  The Cavs are playing the Warriors, and while Charlie is mostly indifferent toward basketball, she finds the whole experience of watching a game with Bass and Connor quite fascinating.  This is something Bass and Connor do every Christmas, Charlie learns, and they’re unsurprisingly animated about it, even when the teams playing are teams neither of them care about.

“Well, I better get started on dinner,” Bass sighs before the end of the first half.

Charlie is comfortably nestled between him and Connor on the couch, and she can’t help but smile at the excitement she sees glittering in Bass’s eyes when he turns toward her.

Connor tears his gaze away from the TV and shakes his head.  “I still think it’s weird that you’re actually going to _cook_ on Christmas, Dad.”

“Son, you do realize that families around the globe have home-cooked meals on Christmas, right?”  Bass reminds him.  “So it’s really not that weird.”

“Yeah, but not us.” Connor shrugs. “For us it is weird.”

“Well, I’m excited.  A home-cooked meal sounds great,” Charlie chimes in.  She turns to Bass with a smile.  “Is there anything I can help with?”

“No,” Connor answers on his father’s behalf, glaring at Charlie.  “See, if _you_ offer to help, then that means _I_ have to offer to help.”

Charlie smirks at him, then turns back to Bass.  “So, do you need any help?”

“Screw you, Charlie,” Connor groans.

Bass chuckles and gives Charlie’s elbow a brief squeeze. “I’d love your help, Charlotte. But only if you want to.”

“I want to,” she grins.

 

\---------------

 

Bass still remembers the very first  time he helped his mother make the Monroe family Christmas dinner.  He was just a child - nine or ten, maybe - and had been thrilled to learn all of Gail’s culinary secrets.

_“You’re a natural,” she’d beamed.  “You learn how to cook, Sebastian, and you’ll have all the girls chasing after you someday.  Women love a man who knows his way around the kitchen.”_

_He remembers giggling at her statement, then focusing all of his attention on carefully folding the marshmallow cream into the caramel sauce - one of the most important steps in making his mother’s caramel cream pie._    

Decades later, the memory still brings a smile to his face.

And today, he has another reason to smile.  Charlie.  She, too, is a natural in the kitchen and manages to keep up with even his most convoluted instructions.  He’s never really had to instruct anyone else in the kitchen before, but to his relief, Charlie follows along like a champ.

“So you mentioned the other night that your mom makes a lot of food for Christmas,” Bass says while they stand side by side at the kitchen counter.  “Do you usually help out with that?”  

He’s surprised when Charlie looks at him like he’s grown a second head.  “Are you kidding me?”  She snorts.  “I don’t go anywhere _near_ the kitchen when my mom’s in there. She’s insane.”

“I’m sorry I asked,” he laughs.

“Whatever I know about cooking or baking - which I admit, isn’t much - is stuff I learned from my grandma,” she explains. “Whenever I go over to her house for a visit, she always insists on teaching me something.”

Bass smiles. “Well, you’re doing a great job here.”

“Thanks.”  She smiles back.  “So how’d you learn to cook?”

“My mother taught me.”

Charlie’s smile saddens and she grows quiet for a moment, the gears in her head clearly turning as she tries to find the right response to his admission.

Seeing her uncertainty, Bass quickly lets her off the hook.  “Yeah, she insisted I learn because according to her, women love a man who can cook.”

Charlie instantly laughs - the exact reaction he had hoped for, and Bass watches as she bites her bottom lip.

“Well,” she says, sighing.  “Your mom wasn’t wrong.”

“That so?”  He raises an eyebrow at her.

“Mmhmm.”  The smile she gives him is blatantly flirty.  Then she drops her voice down and adds, “It’s _really_ sexy, if you ask me.”

Damn.  Between the delectable curve of her soft mouth and her sparkling, ocean-colored eyes and the throaty rasp of her voice, Bass suddenly wants nothing more than to yank her close and kiss her senseless.  Or hell, forget just kissing her.  What he really wants to do is yank her pants down, toss her up on the kitchen island, and bury his face in her -  

“Am I doing this right?”

Her tone is obnoxiously innocent all of a sudden, and her question slaps him back to the present moment.

“What?” He practically croaks out, then watches the way the corner of her mouth twitches up in a tiny, victorious smirk.

Little minx, he thinks, narrowing his eyes.  He’s definitely going to punish her for that.

“The marshmallow cream and the caramel sauce,” she casually clarifies, motioning to the bowl in front of her.  “Am I folding them together correctly?”

Bass exhales and is about to tell her she’s doing just fine, but she’s handing him his opportunity for payback on a goddamned silver platter (or, in this case, in a large, ceramic mixing bowl) and he’d be an absolute idiot to pass it up.   

“Actually,” he says, leaving the dough he’s been kneading for his mom’s famous buttermilk biscuits.  He wipes his hands on a kitchen towel, and instead of taking the rubber spatula Charlie offers him, he steps behind her and tucks in close till the back of her body is pressed up against his front.

She lets out a quiet gasp when he places one hand on the counter and brings his other hand to her wrist. He then guides her hand, which is still clutching the spatula, back to the mixing bowl.     

“It’s all in the wrist,” he whispers in her ear, trying not to smile too hard when she shivers.

“Like this?” She moans and leans into him, letting him do all the actual work.

“Mmm...yeah. Just like that.” He ghosts his lips against the outer shell of her ear. “Good job, Charlotte.”

She shudders once more, and he releases her wrist from his grasp, then trails his hand down to her lower abdomen, where her sweater meets the waistband of her jeans.  He dips his hand below her sweater and his calloused fingertips brush against the warm, tight skin of her belly.

She gasps again.

Damn it.  He needs to kiss her.  He’s been dying to do so all day but now the need is unbearable. He needs to kiss her _now_.

He’s about to spin her around and do exactly that when -

“No! No, no, no! You have _got_ to be kidding me!”

They quickly pull apart at the sound of Connor’s distraught hollering.  Shock fills both of their faces as they try to gather their bearings.

“Dad!”  Connor yells from the living room, and that’s when they realize it’s a false alarm.

Connor is still parked on the couch, his attention entirely captured by the television. He doesn’t wait for Bass’s verbal acknowledgment and goes right on, rattling off something about how the Bulls are getting their asses kicked by the Oklahoma City Thunder.

Bass and Charlie both exhale long, relieved breaths and exchange guilty grins.  Then, still smiling, they each return to their respective tasks.

 

\---------------

 

Once dinner is ready, Charlie helps Bass set the table in the formal dining room.  A festive red tablecloth and silver candlesticks decorate the table, and platters and trays, piled high with savory holiday delights, line its surface.  The dining table seats eight, but the three of them sit near the center with Bass facing Charlie and Connor.  They chat casually and pass around each dish, waiting till everyone’s plate is full before they dig in.

“Oh my God, this ham is amazing.” Charlie closes her eyes, savoring the flavor.

Bass grins at her.  “Glad you like it.”  He takes a bite of biscuit and watches her as he chews.

She catches him watching her and blushes, but she doesn’t look away.

“Yeah, I’m sold on this whole home-cooked dinner thing,” Connor says, filling his fork with a chunk of ham. “We should do this every year, Dad.”

“Well, if _we_ start doing this every year, then _you’re_ going to help me with the preparations,” Bass replies, only to receive a pout from Connor and a quiet giggle from Charlie.

The rest of dinner continues without incident.  The food is perfect and the conversation is comfortable and lively.  

They finish dessert and are well into their second bottle of wine when Connor’s phone buzzes.  He glances at it, quickly shooting off a text before setting it aside.  Almost immediately, it buzzes again.

“What’s going on?” Bass asks, nodding at the phone.

“Nothing.” Connor takes a sip from his wine glass, and as he sets it back on the table, his phone buzzes again.  He frowns, glancing at his dad before picking it up and typing a quick response.

No sooner has he set the phone down, when it starts buzzing again.

“Connor?  Who are you talking to?”

“Just this girl I’ve been hanging out with lately.  She wants to go out tonight.”

“On Christmas?” Charlie cocks a suspicious eyebrow.

Connor shrugs, but he glances guiltily at his dad.  “Sorry about texting at the dinner table.”

Bass leans back in his chair.  He’s about to ask a question, but Charlie speaks first.

“Hey, how come I don’t know about this girl?” Her tone is light and teasing, much like the smile on her face.

Connor rolls his eyes at her. “I don’t tell you _everything_.”

Bass chuckles. “So you really like her?”

“Well, yeah,” Connor answers.  “I think so.  She’s really nice and we have a lot in common.  We met at a concert about a month ago.  It’s not serious, but we’re having fun.”

“What’s her name?”

“Vanessa….” Connor starts to say more but his phone buzzes again.  “Shit, I’ll just turn it off.”

Bass shakes his head.  “No.  You should invite her over.”

“Here?” Connor shakes his head quickly.  “No way.”

“Why not?  Embarrassed of me?” Bass asks with a smirk.

“No, but now that I know girls my age might actually find you attractive….”  Connor nods to Charlie with a dramatic grimace.  “I’m never bringing a girl home, ever again.”  

“Hey!” Charlie smacks him in the back of the head. “Don’t make this about me.”

Connor swats her hand away when she tries to do it again and grins, then looks across the table at his dad, an air of challenge in his gaze.

Bass opens his mouth to speak but changes his mind and shuts it again.  He glances over at Charlie and sees she’s watching him.  Their eyes lock and he feels need building deep within.  Bass sucks in a breath through clenched teeth and turns to his son.  “Connor, you know I would never do anything to – ”

“Yeah.  I know,”  Connor cuts him off, pushing back his chair.  “Hey, Dad, I just realized that I have one more Christmas gift to give you.”

Bass furrows his brow.  “What are you talking about?”

“I’m going out with Vanessa tonight.”

“You’re going out with Vanessa tonight to get me another gift?”

“No.  My gift to you,” Connor explains,  “is an empty house.  You two can discuss history or cooking or how much you both like German doughnuts.”  He shakes his head.  “Or, you know... _whatever_.”

Whatever.

It’s just one little word, but Bass’s head instantly spins with the millions of implications behind it. He looks over at Charlie, and the look on her face indicates that her thoughts are in the exact same place.

His head is still reeling when Connor stands up and adds, “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

 

\---------------

 

Charlie’s heart pounds as she, Bass, and Connor work together to put away the leftovers. The three of them hardly talk as they go about their work, and the air in the room is heavy with tension.  

She can’t decide what’s worse: the fluttering nervousness she feels in her stomach as she thinks about the night that lies ahead, or the fact that Connor knows exactly what she and his dad will be doing after he leaves.

She should be thrilled, she reminds herself.  And she is.  But she’s also a bit on edge.  Sure, she’s been wanting to jump Bass’s bones since the moment she laid eyes on him at the tree farm.  But it’s one thing to think about hooking up with your friend’s dad and another to actually do it.  And then there’s the fact that Bass is twenty years older than her and…experienced.  He’s been having sex longer than she’s even been alive.

She tries not to frown as that thought settles over her.

“Well,” Connor sighs, breaking Charlie from her contemplations. “I’m gonna go grab my stuff and get out of here. See you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye, Kid,” Bass says, and Charlie doesn’t miss the slight uneasiness in his voice. Clearly, she’s not the only one who’s nervous.  (And she can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing.)

They’re still in the kitchen - Bass leaning against the counter while Charlie stands at a safe distance on the other side of the island - when Connor runs up to his room to grab his things, then hustles back down and past them on his way to the garage, where his car is parked.

“Bye!” He hollers over his shoulder, not looking back.

Once he’s gone, the house becomes almost unbearably quiet.  It’s a big house to begin with, but it suddenly feels gigantic.

Charlie stares at her hands and absently picks at her nails. The seconds crawl.

“Charlie….”

It’s Bass who finally breaks the silence.

She shoots her head up to meet his gaze.

He watches her for a while, eyes slowly scanning her face, as if he’s searching for something.  Then, after several long seconds, he quietly chuckles and pushes away from the counter.

She sucks in a breath as he rounds the island and approaches her.

“I’m gonna have to teach that kid a lesson on tactfulness.” His voice is low and soft as he steps closer. He reaches out to brush some hair away from Charlie’s face, tucking a lock behind her ear.

She cracks a smile and melts into his touch as he cups her cheek with his palm. To her surprise, his nearness suddenly makes her feel calm.

“Look.” Bass brushes the pad of his thumb against her cheekbone. “Regardless of what Connor - uh - implied…we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Okay? If you just want to hang out tonight - watch TV or read or something, we can do that.”

His words are so sincere and his gaze so full of devotion that all of a sudden, whatever nervousness or uncertainty she was feeling is gone.  Charlie bursts into a smile and her body heats up with warm desire as she slides her arms around his shoulders and interlocks her fingers at the nape of his neck.  

“I know what I want,”  she tells him with newfound confidence, watching as his face splits into a satisfied smile.

“Yeah?” He pulls her close and rests his hands on her back. “And what might that be?”

She stretches up on her tiptoes and brings her lips close to his. “You,” she whispers against his mouth. “Want you.”

“Mmmm…good. ‘Cause I want you too,” he says before capturing her mouth with his.

They’ve been kissing all week, but there’s something different - something fiercer and more primal - about this kiss than all the others they’ve shared up until this point.  Bass’s hands are shameless as they travel all over Charlie’s body - cupping her ass and squeezing her hip; threading into her hair or trailing up and down her spine.  When he caresses her breasts over her clothing, she moans and lets herself get lost in the sensation.

Her body is on fire and she arches into his touch, and as she does, she feels his erection hardening against her stomach.  He groans when she slides a hand down between them to stroke him over his jeans.  Then he kisses her even harder, his mouth devouring hers while his tongue strokes hotly against her own.    

She's wet and throbbing by the time they reluctantly break apart, both of them breathing hard.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Bass manages between big gulps of air as he rests his forehead against hers.

“Me too,” Charlie admits, panting.

“Bedroom?”   

“Yeah.” She nods eagerly.

He gives her that thousand-watt smile of his - white teeth and dimples on full display, then takes her by the hand and leads her upstairs.

Like every other part of his house, Bass’s room is gorgeous. The ceiling is tall and the window is wide. The furniture and décor look antique and expensive. An enormous upholstered sleigh bed with a tufted headboard takes up most of the room, and on either side of the bed are dark mahogany side tables that perfectly match the dresser and the wardrobe that sits in the corner of the room. There is also a gas fireplace built into the wall near the foot of the bed, and as Bass flips on the switch, the hearth instantly fills with faint blue and gold flame.

Charlie’s pulse quickens when Bass steps behind her and places a hand just above her hip. He pulls her toward him till she’s tight against the front of his body, then uses his free hand to gently gather her hair. He moves her long curls out of the way, exposing the smooth column of her neck, and her eyes flutter shut when he leans down and begins to place moist, reverent kisses all along the side and back of her neck.

Her stomach muscles tremble when he slides his hand under her sweater and draws lazy circles against her skin. A soft sigh leaves her lips when he brings his hand higher, cupping her breast over her bra and gently squeezing her soft flesh, then sliding his hand back down to her belly. All the while, his lips never leave her neck.

His touch is tender and controlled. Confident and unhurried. Charlie genuinely can’t remember the last time a guy took this kind of time with her. If she’s honest, maybe she’s never had this kind of unadulterated attention from any other lover, and she finds herself torn between wanting to bask in the drawn-out attention Bass is giving her and also wanting to twist around in his arms and speed things up.

But they have all night, she tries to remind her overly-excited body, and if the way he’s treating her now is any indication, she’s certain that letting him set the pace will make tonight undeniably spectacular.

Finally, Bass turns her around and looks into her eyes. He doesn’t say a word, but his blue orbs burn with need. She is sure her own eyes mirror the same need as she slides her fingers along the nape of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

This kiss is more than lips meeting and tongues exploring.  Every touch is more than just skin against skin.  

Charlie feels like she might explode as her body experiences a rush of desire so fierce and so carnal, that every single previous insecurity about her overall lack of sexual experience becomes a thing of no consequence.

Bass is everywhere at once: his hands slowly caressing her curves, his mouth coaxing a deeper connection from her own.  She can feel the thick ridge of his growing erection between their bodies, and it makes every part of her ache for more.

He walks her toward the bed without taking his mouth from hers, and they stop only when his legs bump against the mattress. He trails tiny kisses along her jaw, slowing to nibble on her ear.  “Charlie, how do you like to be touched?”

Her mind is so fogged with lust that she barely even comprehends the question.  The only answer she can think of is simply: “By you.”  

He chuckles at that, and the sound of his throaty laughter against her ear raises goosebumps all along her spine.  

“No,” he clarifies.  “I mean, _how_? What do you like?”  He runs his fingertips along her shoulder and down her arm. “Do you like this?” He’s barely touching her, but her nerve endings sizzle in the wake of his touch.  “Or this?” He pulls her closer, rubbing his palms against her lower back, his touch no longer feather light. “Maybe this?”  She hasn’t even answered when he slides his hand between her legs from behind, stroking against her fabric-covered sex.

Charlie hisses out her approval.  “Can I like all three?”

Bass grins.  “Yeah.  You can.”  Then he descends his mouth on hers in another warm, wet kiss.

It’s then that she remembers he isn’t the only one with hands, and she begins to seek out the planes of his back with her fingers.  His shirt is thin but not thin enough, she decides, and far too much of an obstruction. So she pulls on it, yanking it free from his waistband.  She slides her hands under the cotton, relishing the feel of taut flesh and rippling muscles beneath her fingertips.

He takes her lead, hooking his fingers under the hem of her sweater and pulling it off over her head.  When he sees the red lace bra, he sucks in an breath.  “Beautiful,” he rasps out.

“Yeah?” Charlie smiles.  “I wore it for — well, for you.”

Bass runs an appreciative finger along her clavicle, curling it under the red strap, then sliding his finger down until it rests against the slope of her breast.  “I’d say you shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did.”  He leans down, pressing his lips to the valley between her lace-covered mounds.  “Really.  Really.  Glad.”  He punctuates each word with soft little kisses.

She’s about to respond, but the words die on her tongue when he reaches around and unclasps her bra, then tugs the lacy red garment away from her body.

“Even more beautiful,” he lustfully murmurs, pulling back just enough to drink in the sight of her now exposed breasts.  He tosses her bra aside.

Charlie smirks, suddenly reminded of that first night in the living room, when they’d met by the Christmas tree and she’d caught him staring at her chest. His eyes glow with the same lascivious hunger she saw that night. Except that this time, he doesn’t hold back.  This time, he shamelessly licks his lips, then lowers his mouth to a nipple.

She moans and immediately tangles her fingers into his hair, twisting each digit around his curls while he swirls his tongue around the hardening nub.

“You like that?” He whispers into her skin.

She nods voraciously and he chuckles, then drags his mouth over to the other nipple.

Bass takes his time, kissing and biting and tasting her skin with dutiful attention, before dropping to his knees.  He kisses his way down her stomach toward her belly button, his beard scraping across her skin and his wet tongue sliding into the indentation there, causing her to mewl.  Then he begins to work the snap and zipper on her jeans.

“Damn it, Bass,”  Charlie whimpers as he puts his fingers into her belt loops and drags her jeans down over her hips, one slow inch at a time.

All night.  You have all night, her brain chants, but she isn’t sure how much longer she can take the agonizingly slow pace he is setting.  She squirms to help him, only to have him deny her.  

“Patience,” he mumbles against the red silk of her panties before kissing the flimsy fabric that covers her pulsing center.

She swallows harshly and tries to comply while letting him help her out of her jeans.

She’s left in just her underwear, and he’s still on his knees before her, about to push her down onto the mattress, but she stops him.

Curiosity clouds his features when he looks up at her, their gazes locking.

Charlie gives him an impish smile. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He grins knowingly and whips his shirt off. “Better?”

“Much,” she sighs, dragging her eyes all over his chiseled torso.  She intends to take her time, committing to memory the magnificent image of his his naked upper half  - every hard line and beautifully muscled ridge.  

But she quickly learns that he has other plans.

He gently pushes her down into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress, then looks up into her eyes. “How do you want me to touch you, Charlotte?” He asks again, his voice rough with raw desire.

Charlie’s heart skips a beat, and she watches him with hooded eyes.  Slowly, she smiles.  “How do you want to touch me?”

He laughs and runs his hands up her smooth, hairless thighs.  “Every possible way.”

“Better get started, then,” she purrs, spreading her knees in invitation.

Bass growls and pushes her thighs farther apart.

Her hips fly off the bed when he moves in and wraps his mouth around her sex.  He licks and sucks through the silk of her panties while his strong arms circle her thighs, holding her in place as he feasts.  

Charlie curses out loud and throws back her head, lost in the way it feels to have his mouth on her.  When he suddenly pulls away, she punches out an incoherent verbal protest, but before she can form proper words, he sits back on his haunches, quickly removes her panties, then delves back in again.

“Oh shit,” she hisses, bucking up into his mouth as he begins to fuck her with his tongue - in and out, in and out; stiff, expert jabs in a maddeningly steady rhythm, his scruff tickling the drenched petals of her sex.  

He then takes her engorged clit between his teeth and sucks it hard, eliciting another lusty cry from her lips.  She’s right on the verge of orgasm when he slides a finger between her slick folds, fingering her expertly and humming into her pussy, the vibrations finally pushing her over the edge.

She comes hard, stomach muscles tightening, toes curling, her sweet release flooding his mouth, and he eagerly laps up every last drop of her juices.  When she falls back onto the bed, she is breathless and dizzy and thoroughly satisfied.  He nuzzles at her moist sex for a while, then places an adoring kiss against her mound.

Bass stands and sheds his jeans before crawling into the bed and covering her body with his.  His kisses are slow and sweet, and when he once again seals his mouth over hers, she can taste herself on his tongue.  Charlie purrs as he slides his hands over warm skin and soft curves, lighting a fire in his wake.

She had never been with anyone so single-mindedly devoted to her pleasure, and before she’s even fully recovered from her orgasm, she feels another wave of need brewing in her belly like a storm.  She arches against him, grasping his ass and pulling him close.  

“Boxers, off,” she demands before biting down on his earlobe.

Bass groans and lets her pull his boxers down to his knees.  From there he takes over, kicking them off before settling between her open thighs.  “Charlie?”

“Yeah?”  She moves and twists against him, her wet heat anxious for his cock.  But he holds back, his eyes boring into hers.

“This is something, Charlie,” he says, his voice suddenly serious.  “You and me.  I don’t know what, but it’s something.”

Her breath hitches in her throat and she nods. “I know.  It is, but….”

“But what?”

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?  Right now I need you.”  

He grins, lowering his mouth to cover hers again.  As his tongue meets hers, he slowly sinks into her.

Charlie gasps at the intrusion.  Even though Bass is moving slowly, his girth is impressive and she feels her body having to stretch to accommodate him.

“You good?” His eyes search hers.  

She moves her pelvis, tilting to take him deeper, wanting everything he has to offer.  “More,” she begs him.  “Need more.”

He nods, and when her body begins to relax and adjust, he moves deeper, thrusting firmly into her wet depths.  She clings to him, fingernails digging into his hot flesh, eyes locked on his.  Blue burning into blue.

This really is something, Charlie’s heart thunders.  Something real and so much more than just sex.  It’s unlike anything she’s ever experienced, and she knows it’s not just her who feels it.

When she comes a second time, her body spasms around Bass’s cock.  She writhes against him and he pumps through it, pulling from her at the last possible second to spill his seed on her belly and the trimmed curls between her legs.  Collapsing next to her, Bass pants for breath. Charlie’s breathing is also ragged.  

She reaches for his hand and he takes it, entwining their fingers together.

As they lie there, slowly coming down from the shared euphoria of their joining, they can’t help but smile at each other.

“Merry Christmas, Bass,” Charlie tells him in a soft, sleepy voice.  Her eyes begin to droop.

He leans over, still smiling, and places a gentle kiss against her swollen lips.  “Merry Christmas, Charlotte.”


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: It's Christmas! In April! Because...well, it's been slow going these days for Lemon and Romeo. *hanging our heads in shame* **We are terribly sorry for the inappropriately long delay between updates.** Writer's block (for Romeo), RL stuff, etc. caused a major dent in our updating plans, and frankly, this chapter was ~~kind of~~ a bitch to write. But alas, it's finally done, and we're updating! **

**If you're still reading, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, for sticking with us. We can't even tell you how much your continued support means to us. Also, a major shout out to JaqofSpades for previewing this chapter and providing helpful feedback that made a huge difference in the revision process. We're super close to the end of the fic. Just one more chap/epilogue left, which we hope to post soon. In the meantime, we hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks again for sticking with us!**

**The song Connor plays in this chapter is a gorgeous winter song by Derik Nelson (yes, we know - it's not winter anymore). And you can listen to it[HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOQ6nTIAsBQ).**

**And finally, please leave a comment if you can, because, as always, we love hearing what you think. ~ Lemon & Romeo**

 

Charlie stretches languidly and pulls the silky soft covers up around her ears.  Her body still hums with the memory of last night, and she’s tender and pleasantly achy in all the right places.  A goofy grin hangs on her lips before she even opens her eyes.  

When she does finally open them, she discovers that Bass isn’t there.

She sits up slowly, her bleary eyes taking in the dull, gray morning outside the window and noting the cold winter rain that pelts softly against the glass.  Holding the sheets up to cover her bare breasts, she lets her gaze wander around the room.  

It takes her a moment to see the note on Bass’s pillow:

_Coffee run.  Be right back._

Her smile grows wider still as she settles back into the down-filled pillows and takes time to properly appreciate her surroundings.  As she’d guessed, the décor is dedicated to the Civil War Union in the same way her own guest room had been a nod to the Confederacy.

Over the fireplace hangs a painting that depicts the battle of Gettysburg and on an opposite wall above an antique dresser is a framed Civil War era American flag.  The bedding and drapes are a deep navy blue.  A tall bookcase is filled with leather bound texts.  The room is both elegant and masculine and suits Bass perfectly.

Her perusal stops when the bedroom door opens.  Bass peers around it until he sees that she’s awake.  Then he walks in, his hands full of Starbucks and his eyes full of mischief.  His nose is red from the cold, and Charlie watches as he sets the coffee down before shedding his coat.

“You’re awake.” His smile lights up his face.

“Yeah.” She can’t help but grin in return.  “You look cold.”

He nods, handing her a Christmas-colored Starbucks cup.  She takes it and sips, watching as he sheds his clothes.  In moments, he is naked and striding toward the bed, his own coffee disregarded.  She puts her cup down on the bedside table and narrows her eyes at him.  “What are you doing?”

“Warming up my hands,” he answers with a mischievous chuckle, then slides under the covers.

Charlie screeches when he snuggles close, stroking his icy fingers down her back and over the curve of her ass.  She tries to wriggle away, but his grip is firm as he pulls her close.  Soon, they are face to face, lying on their sides.

He kisses her softly and she responds, savoring the taste of his lips.  When he breaks the kiss, he nuzzles against the hollow of her cheek. “Good morning, Charlotte.”

She smiles and kisses the cold tip of his nose.  “Morning.”  

She trails her lips along his cheekbone and down to his lips, stroking his cool flesh with heated fingers and loving the way his body warms under her touch.  Then she slides her hands down his side, digging her fingers into his hip.

He bites lightly on her earlobe.  “Having you here, in my bed – ”

“Yeah?” Her voice is almost a moan.

“I could get used to this.”  He pulls her knee up and over his hip and slides his hands between her legs from behind, finding her wet and ready.

She squeals as his cold fingers slide between her moist folds.  

He chuckles but doesn’t slow the leisurely pumping motion of his fingers.  “You want to help warm me up?”

She sucks in a breath.  “Yeah, I want to, but not like that.  Not yet.”  She rolls away and pushes him on his back.

“What other way did you – ”  he breaks off as she trails small, warm kisses down his chest, stopping briefly to lick at his nipples, then continuing lower.  “Oh.”  His voice is harsh with building want as she goes lower still.  

Charlie kisses and nips her way south.  Her hand finds his throbbing cock moments before she reaches it with her mouth.

Bass’s cock is thick and long, heavily veined and impossibly hard.  Charlie licks her lips, watching the tender purple flesh of the head.  Milky drops of precum gather at the tiny slit, and she reaches out to lap them away with her tongue.

He props himself up on his elbows and watches her.  “Getting warmer,” he croaks.

“Good.”  Charlie grins before lowering her silky lips to his cock.  She strokes from base to tip with the flat of her tongue, relishing the sounds he makes in response.  When she sheathes him with her mouth, she looks up, catching and holding his gaze as she begins to bob up and down.

His shaft is slippery with her saliva as she takes him deeper still.  When he touches the back of her throat, she swallows and takes him deeper.

“Oh hell.  Almost there,” Bass groans in warning as he thrusts into her mouth and throat.  

Charlie reaches down and tenderly caresses his balls with her fingers as she sucks.  She feels them tighten and lift under her touch.

He comes with a growl, fingers tangled in her hair, his thick release pulsing hotly into her mouth, and she greedily takes it all, swallowing every last drop before lovingly cleaning him with her tongue.  When she’s satisfied with her work, she looks up.  Bass watches her with hooded eyes and a loopy smile.  

She lets out a victorious little giggle.  “Still cold?”

“No.  Not at all.  Get up here,”  he orders, and she crawls up his body to snuggle at his side, resting her head on his chest.  She listens to the steady thump of his heartbeat as it slows to a normal rhythm.  Taking a slender finger, she traces circles around his nipple.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He says, his chest vibrating beneath her ear.

“Yeah, I know,” she purrs playfully, causing Bass to chuckle.

They lie there for a few moments, just enjoying each other and the soft sound of the rain outside.  The morning crawls along and they talk off and on about history and politics, art and music, and various other subjects, discovering that their interests overlap in more ways than they had even imagined.

After a while, Bass gets out of bed to retrieve some antique journals.  He brings them to her and carefully hands them over.  “These are the diaries I bought at an auction recently.  I mentioned them to you once,” he explains before joining her in bed.

She nods, opening the cover of the first volume with extreme care.  The cover page is inscribed simply: _Gabriel Swift – Company B, 73rd Ohio Infantry.  1863 – 1864_

“Who was Gabriel Swift?” She asks.

“He was a Union soldier who fought in Gettysburg and several other important battles.  He was captured and held as a prisoner of war after Second Bull Run.  While there, he wrote long letters to his wife Catherine.  I bought those letters along with the journals.”

“I can see why you’d want to have them.”  Charlie tilts her head curiously.  “What else?  I can tell you want to say something.”

“Gabriel Swift wasn’t just a Union soldier.”

“Okay…?”

Bass grins at her. “He was also my ancestor.  His daughter married a Monroe and several generations later...well, here I am.”

“Wow.” Charlie’s eyes grow wide with realization.  “No wonder these are so important to you.  Does Connor know?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t all that excited,” he chuckles.  “Not everyone appreciates this sort of thing.”

“Well, I do,” she says.

“Just one of the many reasons I think you are amazing.”  He beams at her before leaning in for a lusty kiss.  “You really are a fantastic woman.”

Charlie smiles, mesmerized by the adoration she sees in Bass’s eyes.

They fall back into a comfortable silence for a while, limbs tangled together in a warm bundle.  After some time, Charlie notes that the rain has stopped and the sun is shining.  She leans in close.  “Bass?”

“Hm?”

“What happens next?”

He snickers and kisses the top of her head. “Give me a little while, and we can – ”

“That’s not what I meant,” she interjects, giggling and smacking his chest. She sits up and looks at him.  “I mean, what happens next? With us?”

His expression changes into something more serious then, and he watches her for a while, his eyes meticulously scanning her face, as if he’s memorizing her every feature.  “What do you want to happen?”

“I….” She starts to speak but realizes she doesn’t exactly know how to answer his question.  

What _does_ she want?  Him.  She knows that much.  But there’s more to it, she realizes, and she doesn’t have a clue what any of it means.  Or if he even feels the same way.

“I want to see you again,” she admits.  “I want to see if there’s something here – I mean more than the physical something.”

He nods with a slow smile. “I want that too.”  

“Yeah?” She smiles back, feeling a flutter of hope in her belly.

“Yeah.”  He combs his fingers through her hair.  

“Okay. So I guess the question now is: how?  Maybe we could meet up on the weekends?”

“Sure,” he says, but Charlie doesn’t miss the look of uncertainty that flashes through his eyes.

“What?”  She asks, knowing he has something more he wants to say.  “You don’t think that will work?”

“No, it’s not that.  It’s just...I work a lot of my hours on the weekends because that’s when my clients are able to visit the sites.”  He’s quiet for a second, thoughts churning.  “But you know what?  That doesn’t matter.  I’ll make this work.  I’ll just cut back my hours.  Connor’s always telling me I work too hard anyway.”

Charlie’s mind whirls.  He’s willing to cut back on his work?  She hasn’t known him for very long, but if there’s one thing she knows for sure, it’s the fact that his work is an integral part of who he is.  Simply put: architecture is his life.  And even if he did make some changes, like cutting back on his hours, that seems...serious.  How soon till he resents her for making him put his career on the back burner?

“You’d cut back for me?” She asks.  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

He smirks.  “If it means quality time with you?  Then yeah.  Best idea ever.”

Charlie frowns at him.  “I’m being serious here.”

“And you think I’m not?”  He says, and as she studies his face, the realization slams into her: he’s not kidding.

She’s still processing his words when he asks his next question.

“How much school do you have left?”

“The rest of this year,” she replies, panic tapping at her heart. “And then grad school starting next fall.”

“Okay.”

 _Okay?_  Her heart is now pounding.  She’s hearing everything she’s wanted to hear all week, and yet she suddenly feels terrified.  “Or what if…?”  She doesn’t finish her thought and chews on her bottom lip.

Bass watches her closely. “What if what?”

She hesitates, but then somehow musters up the courage to ask:  “What if we just keep things casual?  Maybe that way, you don’t have to cut back on your work hours?  And if weekends aren’t good for you, maybe we can see each other during the week?  You can always visit me at my dorm.  And we could see each other more during the summer.  That’s only a few months away.”

His expression drops into a frown.  “I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable going to the dorm.  Everyone would think I’m your dad.”

“No, they wouldn’t…” she counters, but then she trails off, imagining Bass arriving on her floor amid jocks throwing around a basketball, students cramming for tests in the common areas and co-eds traipsing around in towels and flip-flops.  “Okay, maybe we would just meet here.”

“We can try that.” Bass nods but sounds far from confident.

Charlie feels her heart drop. “You don’t think it will work, do you?”

He continues running his fingers through her hair.  “I’m just...trying to think it through.  I want you in my life.  I know that.  But I don’t want to be unfair to you and I just don’t know how we can do this.  And the truth is, Charlotte, I don’t do casual.  Never have.”

“Never?” She echoes.

He shakes his head.  “Not really.  I guess I’ve had a few one-night stands.  They never ended well.”

“So you’ve had a lot of serious girlfriends?”

“No, not a lot.  I’ve only had a couple.  This girl in college.  Her name was Shelly.  We dated for six years and we were going to get married.”

“What happened?” Charlie almost doesn’t want to know, but she can’t help but ask.

“She got pregnant.  It was good because we both wanted kids.”

Charlie frowns at him, her eyes filled with silent question.

He seems to understand and continues. “We lost the baby.  Stillbirth.  Worst day of my life.  This little perfect girl – perfect except she wasn’t breathing.  It was a medical fluke.  Nothing the doctors could have done.”

“I’m so sorry.” Charlie feels tears welling.  “What happened with you and Shelly?”

“They say that losing a child will either drive a couple apart or bring them closer together.”

“And?”

“She blamed me, I think.  I’m not sure why.  Not sure she even knew, but it was all downhill from there.  We postponed our wedding and ended up breaking up for good just a few months later.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah.  I don’t know if things would have worked out if the baby had lived.  No idea.  Shelly did get married eventually and they have a few kids together now.   I think she’s happy.”

“I’m so sorry.  I can’t even imagine….” Charlie pauses.  “So after Shelly….”

“I swore off relationships.  Had a friends with benefits thing for a long time.  This woman I had known for years.  Her name was Duncan.  That was okay.  But she eventually got sick of the way things were and ended it a couple years ago.  She’s married now too.”

“What about Connor’s mom?”

Bass shrugs.  “She was my best friend’s girl.  It was one of those things where it seems like the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, I guess.  She was beautiful and off-limits.  I wanted what I couldn’t have.  One night, my buddy was passed out and I found out that I could have it if I wanted it badly enough.  She got pregnant, but I didn’t even know.  I shipped out for basic training and so did my friend.  It wasn’t until Emma got sick that either of us found out the truth.”

“How did you know Connor was yours and not your friend’s?”

“That’s what I wanted to know,”  Bass chuckles but there is no happiness in it, just a sad, bitter sense of amusement.  “Before I even met Connor, I demanded a DNA test.  I felt like an ass later, but it was all such a shock.  He was almost ten when I found out about him.”

“Have you dated anyone lately?”

“No.  Not for a long time.”  He rubs his hand up and down her arm.  “You?”

Charlie frowns.  Her own dating history suddenly feels terribly inconsequential.  “I had a high school boyfriend.  His name was Adam.  He was a nice guy.  Maybe too nice.  When I left for college, it just fizzled out.  No hard feelings.”

Bass nods.  “I understand that.  Anyone since you started college?”

“Yeah.  I had a fling with this bartender, Jeff.  Nice guy, but we had nothing in common.  Once the newness wore off, I stopped going to his bar.  He never called to ask where I was, so I’m pretty sure that he wasn’t too broken up about it.  Anyway, that’s when I met Jason.”

“Jason?”

“Yeah.  We started dating at the end of freshman year and broke up last year.”

“Why did you break up?”

“He was obsessed with someone else.”

“He cheated on you?” His voice is suddenly hoarse with fury.

“No.” She smiles ruefully.  “He was obsessed with...himself.  I don’t know why it took me so long to see it, but eventually I just couldn’t take it anymore.  When I broke up with him, he was stunned.  He actually asked if I really thought I could do any better than him.”

“And you said?”

“I said to stick his narcissism up his ass.”

Bass cracks a smile at that but doesn’t say anything.  

“I met Connor shortly after that.  He and I hit it off right away.”  She glances up and meets Bass’s eyes.  “Always just as friends, but he was there for me when I was getting back on my feet.”

“I’m glad he was there for you.” He smiles again. His words are sincere but sadness clouds his eyes.

They become silent again until Charlie speaks up.  “So...what about us?  Is this it?”

“I don’t know,” he says as a bittersweet smile forms on his face. “I’ll tell you what I do know, though.”

“Okay?”  Charlie bites her lip, unable to mask her skepticism.

Bass tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.  “I know I’m glad I met you.  Glad that we got to spend time together this week.”

“So in other words, this week is all we’re going to have,” she concludes, admitting the thing he doesn’t seem to be able to say.

It takes him a moment, but finally he nods. “I think that might be for the best. Don’t you?”

 _No_ , she wants to protest as her heart sinks into her stomach.  This isn’t for the best.  This fucking sucks.  

But...what other options do they have?

She stares at him for a while, racking her brain for some other - _any_ other - solution, only to realize that she can’t think of even one.  Finally, she forces herself to nod.   

“Look, maybe if it’s just this week, it will be something we can always look back on and remember without feeling bitter,” he suggests.  “When do you go back to school?”

“The dorms open in four days,” she replies.  “Class starts in another week after that.”

“So we have four days or even longer if you wanted to stick around.”

Charlie feels her chest tighten.  She feels the sting of oncoming tears but doesn’t want him to see her break apart.  She turns her back to Bass and swings her feet to the floor, fully prepared to leave his bed.  

“Wait.  Charlotte.” He’s behind her within seconds, arms wrapping around her in a possessive embrace.  

Her chest still aches with the weight of their conversation and everything that she knows is coming, but as Bass’s lips move against her skin, she can’t help but melt into him.  When he pulls her back down onto the bed and moves to hover over her, she goes without argument.  

“Bass?”  She eventually says, breathless.

“Yeah, Charlie?”  He bites lightly at her jawline, gently squeezing her breast with a free hand.  His knee wedges between hers, and she willingly opens for him.

“I won’t leave yet, but let’s not pretend this is something it isn’t.  Okay?”  Her tone is serious, but her breathing is labored as desire swirls through her gut.

Bass stops what he’s doing and looks deep into her eyes. “And what is it?”

The stare she offers him in return is intense and earnest as she commits to memory every inch of his perfect, rugged features.  “If it’s a day or a week, this is still a goodbye.”

A certain possessiveness flares across his face then, and he cups her face between his hands. His eyes are a fiery blue as they lock on hers.  “Then let’s make this the kind of goodbye neither of us will ever forget.  Okay?”

She feels her breath catch.  “Okay,” she says tremulously, eyes fluttering shut as Bass lowers his mouth to hers.

Their lips join together in a blazing kiss, tongues tangling and hands clinging desperately to one another. Charlie rakes her fingers down Bass’s back, savoring the distinct texture of his warm skin and never wanting to forget what it feels like.

Their tongues explore and probe.  Hands continue to roam.  She reaches for his cock, but he brushes her fingers away, finding her clit instead.  He runs a rough thumb across the tiny, pulsating nub, causing her to groan.

“Shit, that feels so good.”  Charlie bucks against his hand.

He smiles in response and dips a couple of fingers inside her, causing her to mewl in desperation.

“So beautiful, baby,” he rasps in her ear, his voice pure affection. “So, so beautiful.”

“Bass...” she whimpers.  “Need you. Now.”

When he growls in approval, she fully expects him to replace his fingers with his cock, but instead, he pulls his fingers away, rolls off of her, and scoots back on the bed till he’s in a seated position, his back resting against the headboard.

She frowns at him, but only for a second, because before she can question what he’s doing, he pats his thigh and beckons her to him.

“Come here,” he says.

Her pussy is drenched and throbbing, and she’s desperate to have him inside.  She wants to drop into his lap till he’s buried deep within her, wants to hold him while he holds her, until they’re both drowning in sensation.   

But then there’s a part of her that thinks she should draw this out.  A part of her that wants to make this moment last as long as it possibly can.

That part of her wins as she slowly inches closer.  She never breaks eye contact while her hands and knees trail on either side of his legs.  Her long hair tickles his thighs as she dips down to lick the underside of his cock with one long stroke as she continues her journey to him.

“Goddamn it, Charlotte,” he groans.

She ignores his plea as she leisurely works her way up his body.  She slows to nibble at the tight flesh of his belly and then on up farther still to take a hardened nipple between her teeth.  She bites on it lightly, causing him to punch out a sharp breath.

He’s clearly had enough, because the next thing she knows, he pulls her close without warning and she loses her balance, falling into his chest with a squeal.

They both laugh as she shuffles her knees to surround his hips.  Once she has her balance again, she leans down and kisses him soundly.

This touch of lips and tangle of tongues is all consuming. Charlie moans and takes his bottom lip between her teeth.  Bass runs his hands all over her curves, grasping the globes of her ass, pulling her flush with him as he deepens the kiss.  She complies without thought, never having wanted anything as much as she wants this – as much as she wants him.

For a moment, her focus wavers as she thinks about the thing she’s supposed to be forgetting.  Her heart clenches, and she struggles to stay in the moment; she struggles to avoid the fact that she cannot have the one thing she really wants: a future with Bass.  Charlie bites her lip hard enough to draw blood.  The sting of pain brings her back and she takes a deep steadying breath.

His mouth is on her throat now, licking and sucking at the flesh there, and effectively distracting her from her inner turmoil.  She’s back in the moment, her body responding to his every touch in ways she’s never responded to anyone before.

Her nerve endings thrum with need and when Bass pulls her down to sheath his throbbing cock, she cries out.

Charlie’s velvety folds stretch as he fills her and she begins to ride, slowly at first but it doesn’t take long before instinct and sheer need take over.  Bass grasps her hips and guides her as she slides up and down, their pace steadily increasing.

They are both panting heavily, eyes locked.  Bass's skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat.  Charlie is flushed and her moans are needy.  Together, they continue to pick up the pace, their movements becoming jerkier and more desperate with each passing second.

Charlie comes hard around his cock, pussy fluttering in violent spasms, her fingers desperate as they dig into his shoulders. She can feel him rocking toward his own release inside of her and notes the way his jaw tightens as he tries to maintain control.  When he grasps at her waist and tries to pull her free, she just holds tighter to him and shakes her head.  

“No!” She pleads, and he shoots her a confused look. “Want to feel you – all of you.”

“You sure, baby?  You want me to….”

“Please.” She nods, rolling her hips to encourage him.

His jaw twitches once more, and he lifts his hips in response, yanking her down as he thrusts deep.  He comes inside her in thick, hot spurts as her core continues to pulse around him, and the moment is total and absolute bliss, unlike anything she’s ever experienced in her life.

Bass buries his face in her throat, his breathing ragged. “Jesus, Charlie.”  He pulls her close, and she clings to him.   “You are amazing, Charlie.  Amazing.”

She feels boneless, her body shaky with the intensity of their joining.  “I’ve never — it was — you are so – I — ”

She clamps her lips shut when she realizes what she was about to say, and panic courses through her veins.  She'd never believed it could happen before, that urgent flood of emotion that results in unwise professions of love. She would have never believed it of herself, but here she is, biting her lip so she doesn’t blurt it out.

You're just sad, she tells herself. A bit overcome. You aren’t in love with him. That can’t be what this is….

“Shhh.  It’s okay, ” he whispers, kissing her forehead, and she can’t decide if he’s referring to her earlier babbling or the thoughts racing through her head.

Whatever the case, it causes her mind to still - at least for the moment, and she once again focuses her attention on him: on the feel of his flesh against hers, and the warmth of his arms, wrapped tightly around her body.  

They stay like that for a long time, stirring only when they hear the distant sound of an acoustic guitar playing downstairs.

Bass presses his lips to Charlie’s sweat-drenched temple.  “Sounds like Connor’s home.”

She nods.  “Yeah.”

They get out of bed and he leads her to his shower.  They tenderly wash each other’s hair and bodies, neither of them really speaking, but their eyes frequently meeting.  The moment isn’t about sex.  It’s about intimacy and an emotional bond that has built between them over the past several days.

Before he shuts the shower off, Bass pulls Charlie into his embrace.  His touch breaks her resolve this time, and every emotion she’s been fighting comes rushing up to the surface.  She begins to cry against his chest.  The water pouring from the shower dulls the sound of her sobs and camouflages the tears on his cheeks.

When they finally turn off the water, they dry off quickly.  Charlie wraps in a towel and walks to her room to get dressed.  She pulls on old jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt.

She’s lost in her thoughts when there’s a gentle knock on her door.  She opens the door and sucks in a breath.  No matter how much her heart hurts, she can’t stop herself from admiring the sight before her. Bass looks perfect, dressed in faded jeans and an old black sweater.  He’s wearing his glasses, although they don’t even begin to disguise his red rimmed eyes.  

“Hey,” she says, aware of how despondent she sounds - and probably looks.

“Hey.”  His tone and expression are just as melancholy as hers.  “Ready to go down and say hi to Connor?”  

She nods, her gaze never wavering from his.  “I guess so.”  

When he offers a hand, she takes it, and together they walk downstairs.  

They find Connor sitting on the couch with his Fender acoustic on his lap. A pretty brunette sits at his side, smiling, her gaze awestruck, as she listens to him sing and play.

 

\---------------

 

_The wind is biting at the door_

_It’s never been this bad before_

_It’s late; the street’s a sheet of ice_

_Wouldn’t staying here be so nice?_

 

_This place was built for two_

_What we do is up to you_

_But if you have to go, won’t you please drive slow?_

_And call me when you’re home…_

 

_I’m waiting for you to admit_

_That we’ve become a perfect fit_

_Tracing each freckle on your face_

_Safe by the glowing fireplace_

 

_Drawing out long goodbyes_

_Can’t bear to leave your eyes_

_But if you’ve really gotta go, won’t you please drive slow?_

_And call me when you’re home..._

 

_And everyone’s talking ‘bout the weather like it’s front page news_

_But my interpretation is the headline’s me and you_

_So come on, a little nearer, let me hold you close_

_I don’t ask for much, so if you go_

_Call me when you’re home..._

 

As the song comes to an end, Connor looks up and sees them.  His heart falls when he notices the expression on his dad’s face.  Connor sets his guitar aside and stands, looking back and forth between his dad and Charlie.  They both look terrible.   And despite the fact that they are holding hands, neither one of them is looking at the other.

Connor furrows his brow. “What’s going on?”

He watches as Charlie shakes her head, her mouth trembling.  

His dad shakes his head as well.  “We’re fine, Connor.  Introduce me?”  He forces a smile and nods at Connor’s friend.

Connor casts an adoring smile at his guest and puts his arm around her shoulders. “‘Nessa, this is my dad and our friend, Charlie.” He pauses for a second. “Dad, Charlie, this is...my girlfriend, Vanessa.”

“Girlfriend?” Charlie squeaks out.  “That’s…that’s really nice.”  She smiles, but her eyes have welled with tears. “It’s nice to meet you, Vanessa.”

“You too,” Vanessa answers politely.

“Seriously, what the hell is going on?” Connor’s heart is pounding.  He had half resigned himself to either his dad or Charlie getting their heart broken, but the way they are acting right now, he fears he underestimated his worry.

He watches as his dad opens his mouth to answer but then shuts it again.

The shrill ring of a cell phone interrupts the conversation, slicing through the thick tension in the room.  Connor remains silent, his arm still draped over Vanessa’s shoulders, and looks on as Charlie rushes over to a side table, where she’d left her phone the night before.

She picks it up and glances at the display before answering.  Her voice sounds small and tired.  “Hi, Danny….”

 

\---------------

 

“Woah.  You okay?”  Danny sounds concerned.

“Sorry.  Yeah, I’m fine,” she lies.  “What’s up?”

“Well, Mom wanted me to call and tell you that the roads are clear.  She wants you to come back to Appleton for the rest of your break.  She saved your presents and everything.”

“Come home?” Charlie feels numb.  Her brother’s words barely even register in her head.

“Seriously, are you okay?  You sound weird and sad.  If you’re homesick, that’s all the more reason to get in your car and drive up.”

“Yeah, I guess I could.  I don’t know.”

“Charlie.  Come home for a few days.  I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Yeah.  Okay.  Maybe tomorrow.”

“No way.  Not tomorrow.  If you wait, you’ll just change your mind.  Come back today.  Leave now and you can be here by dark.”

“I’ll try, okay?” She says. “I have to go now though. I’ll talk to you later.”

She disconnects before Danny has another chance to argue and looks up to see Connor eyeing her, his eyes full of worry.  Bass is staring at the floor.  Vanessa looks confused and watches Connor, waiting for a cue from him.  

Connor steps in Charlie’s direction.  “What did Danny want?”

“The roads are better.”  She stares at her phone, feeling lost.  “My family wants me to go home for the rest of break.”  She looks over at Bass and sees he’s now watching her with a haunted expression.  “So...I guess I’m going home.”

“You sure?” Connor pats her shoulder reassuringly, but she shrugs him off.  

“Yeah.  I should go.  I, uh, need a ride though.  Could you give me a lift to the dorm?  My car is parked in the garage there.”

Bass steps forward.  “I’ll take you.”

Their eyes meet and hold for an agonizingly long time.  Finally, Charlie nods.  “Thanks. I’ll go get my things.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass pulls on his boots and shrugs into his jacket on auto-pilot.  He doesn’t even hear Connor at first.  His thoughts are only on Charlie and the burning ache he now feels in his chest at the thought of ending things with her.  Eventually, Connor’s voice sinks into Bass’s brain.  

“What?” He asks, his voice vacant.

“What in the hell happened?”  Connor questions.  “I was gone like twelve hours and now you both look like someone killed your dog.”

Bass shakes his head.  “Nothing. Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did you hurt her feelings or something?  What did you say?”

“It wasn’t like that.  We just...talked.  We figured some things out.  And some of those things made both of us a little sad.  End of story.”

“A _little_ sad?” Connor repeats the words as if they’re foreign and shakes his head. “Dad. Come on – ”

Bass doesn’t bother to listen and slams the door in his son’s face.

He has barely made it a few steps before Connor marches into the garage after him.  Once again, Bass ignores his son and quickly starts the ignition on the Mercedes.  He opens the rolling garage doors and is headed back into the house when Connor stops him.

“Dad!  Charlie is a good person.  I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“Fuck!”  Bass loses whatever composure he’d been holding on to.  Picking up a wrench from the garage’s work bench, he throws it as hard as he can.  It clangs off a metal shelving unit on the far wall.  His breathing is heavy, his eyes wet and full of pain as he finally looks up at Connor.  “I never wanted to hurt her, Connor.  Never.”

“Okay.  I’m sorry.”  Connor immediately backs off and runs a hand through his hair.  “You gonna be okay?  I can drive her back if – ”

Bass shakes his head.  “I need to do it.  Need to say goodbye.”

Connor shakes his head and sighs. His expression reveals that he’s at a total loss.

“Tell her I’ll have the car waiting out front,”  Bass says as he gets in and backs the car out of the garage without waiting for Connor to answer.

 

\---------------

 

“Charlie?”  Connor taps lightly on the guest room door. His brow knits together in sorrowed frustration; he can hear her muffled sniffles coming through the door and has a pretty good idea of the sight that awaits him.  “Charlie, can I come in?”

Several seconds pass and she doesn’t answer, so finally, Connor turns the knob and lets himself in.     

Sure enough, he finds Charlie sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the book his dad gave her to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.  “Shit.  Charlie.  Please tell me what’s going on.”

“You were right.”  She sniffs loudly, not looking up to meet his eyes.

“Right about what?”

“Your dad and I – we can’t…it won’t….”  Her shoulders shake as she cries.  “I know you were worried about me breaking his heart, but I think maybe we both let this go too far.”

Connor sits at her side.  “I don’t get it.  Everything was fine.  Last night you guys were fine.”

“Last night was wonderful.  He was wonderful.  IS wonderful….”

“But?”

“But this morning, we tried to game out a way to see each other – a way we could extend this thing beyond the holiday.  Suddenly, in the light of day, it didn’t matter how much we wanted it.  It just isn’t meant to be.”

“I’m so sorry.” Connor feels tears welling in his own eyes.  He’d watched Charlie in the aftermath of her breakup with Neville, and other than eating more than her fair share of Ben & Jerry’s, she hadn’t been all that broken up.  Mostly she’d made fun of her ex and listened to angry girl music.

She hadn’t been like this.  She hadn’t acted like her world was ending.

“Charlie, what can I do?” He puts a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Nothing.  Go enjoy some quality time with your new girlfriend.  By the time classes start back up, I’ll be fine.  Okay?  I’ll be fine.”  She nods, clearly trying to believe her own words.

Connor doesn’t believe her for a minute, but he knows she’s done talking about this.  He gives her shoulder an encouraging squeeze.  “Dad’s in his car, out front.  He’s waiting.”

Charlie inhales shakily and nods again.  “Yeah.  Okay.”  

Connor watches as she stands and looks around the guest room one last time before pulling on her purple pea coat.  Without a word, he follows her out into the hallway.

 

\---------------

 

Bass sits in the car, feeling dazed and frozen, regardless of the fact that the heat is on.  His eyes are closed and his head is back against the headrest.  Miles Davis is playing on the local jazz station, and the melancholy beauty of the music suits his mood.

He hears the front door of his house open, and there she is.  

Charlie spends a few moments saying goodbye to Connor and then she heads toward the car, a heavy duffel slung over one shoulder.  Bass gets out as the trunk smoothly opens.  He takes her bag without speaking and puts it inside before shutting the door, and he intends to open her door for her, but she beats him to the punch.

Bass gets back in and fastens his seat belt.  He looks over at Charlie, but she’s staring at the house.  He can sense that she’s soaking up the image in an effort to remember.  He clears his throat.  “Ready?”

She nods mutely, eyes still fixed on the house as they pull out of the drive.

Neither speaks for the first few blocks.  But eventually, Bass can’t help himself.  “Why now?  You could have stayed a little longer?”  He doesn’t look at her, his gaze glued to the road ahead.

“I could have stayed, but we both know that’s a bad idea.”

“Maybe.  Maybe not.”  He shrugs, his voice rough.

“If I stayed, I don’t think I’d be able to stop...”

“Stop what?”  He asks gruffly.

“If I stayed,”  Charlie’s voice wavers, “I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from falling in love with you.  I’m not sure I can even now, but if I stayed….”

Bass breathes in a harsh breath as the weight of her confession pummels into him.  He feels exactly the same way but didn’t realize she felt like that too.  His head suddenly feels foggy. “Maybe we just haven’t thought it through.  Maybe if we – ”

“No.” Her tone is firm and holds a bite of finality.  “You were right.  It can’t work.  Our lives are too different.  We’re too different.”

“Not so different,” he says, reaching for her hand.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m falling for you too, Charlie.  And...maybe that’s enough?”

“But maybe it’s not.”  She grasps his fingers tightly in hers.  “Right now, I just want to think.  I need time to get my bearings.”

“Take as much time as you need.  We can write letters or call or text or whatever.”  The hope in his voice betrays his desire to find a solution, even when he sees none.

Charlie squeezes his fingers.  “No.  I think…no.”

He stares out the windshield once again and nods, not even trying to hide the tear that slides down his cheek and lodges in his beard.

They’re silent for the remainder of the ride back to campus but they never let go of each other’s hands.  The swelling sadness of the music underscores the emotions that hang heavily in the cabin of the car.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Bass asks as they pull up next to the old brick dormitory.  A parking garage for students is just beyond the dorm; he nods in that direction.

She shakes her head.  “Need to go up to my room.  I have to get the presents for my family and some other things before I head out.”

“Yeah.  Okay.”  They stare at each other for a few minutes, the gaze hot enough to ignite the air between them.  Slowly, Bass withdraws his hand from Charlie’s.  “I’ll get your bag.”

He retrieves her duffle and they walk to the main entrance of the dorm.  The whole area is eerily quiet.

Bass glances around, remembering the last time he was here.  He’d been dropping something off for Connor.  The lawn and sidewalks had been filled with college kids and professors – a steady hum of activity.  Now, in the middle of Christmas break, the space is deserted.  As he and Charlie walk, their footsteps echo loudly between the buildings that loom above them.

“So, this is me.” Charlie motions to the large oak doors.  She’s pulled her key card out of her purse and flashes it at the sensor.  When it beeps, she grasps the heavy brass handle and pulls, holding it open.

He moves in close.  She starts to say something to stop him, but he’s not interested in hearing it.  He lowers his mouth to hers, kissing her softly one last time.  Bass pulls away, but just far enough to whisper, “I’m not sorry.”

She buries her face in his neck as he wraps her tightly in his arms.  “Me neither.”

“I hate how this is ending,” he continues.  “But I’ll never forget you.  I’ll never forget what little time we had together.”

She pulls away, opening the door wider.  “You should go.  Take care of yourself.”

He purses his lips.  “Yeah.  You too.  Goodbye, Charlotte.”

“Bye, Bass.”

The door closes with a click and Charlie walks into the dark depths of her dorm.  Even though it is empty and dark, the familiarity of the place fills her with a certain calmness.  She trudges up the stairs and down the hall to her room.  She opens the door and drops her bag before flopping down face first onto the bed.

 

\---------------

 

Connor watches his dad over the kitchen island.  It’s been three days since Charlie left.

Three miserable days.

“Going to work today?” He asks casually.  Based on the fact that it’s well past 10 am, and his dad is still in those stupid red pajamas he’s been living in lately, Connor figures the answer is no.

“No.  Scanlon has it all under control.”

“Are you just letting him run the place now?”

Bass doesn’t look up from his newspaper.  “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You do realize that at some point, you’ll have to leave the house and rejoin the real world?”

Bass shrugs.  “Everyone delivers and Scanlon knows what he’s doing.  Not going anywhere.”

“You get how fucked up it is that you told her nothing could happen between you two because of your work schedule and _then_ you stopped working?”

He looks up at Connor.  His eyes are bloodshot and his face is drawn.  He isn’t sleeping and barely eats, and Connor is worried.  

Bass runs a hand along his jaw.  “Yeah, the irony has not escaped me.”

“Do you want me to call her?  See how she’s doing?”

His eyes flicker with interest, but it fades.  “No.  You’ll see her soon enough.  I’m sure she’s having a good time with her family.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Connor admits.  The truth is that Connor isn’t so sure Charlie ever made it home.  He decides it’s high time he check up on a hunch he has.  “I have errands to run.  I’ll talk to you tonight.  Maybe you could find time today to take a shower.”

Bass turns back to his newspaper.  “Maybe.”

 

\---------------

 

Charlie sits in bed, watching a cheesy romantic comedy and eating Ramen out of a large Pyrex bowl.  Beside her sits a half empty bottle of wine.  When someone knocks on her door, she chooses to ignore it.  But then the knocking persists and finally, the knob begins to rattle.

Sighing in frustration, she puts down her bowl and shuffles to the door.  She opens it wide without looking through the peephole.  “You going to turn me in, or can this be our little secret?”

Connor Bennett scowls back at her.  “I told you that you couldn’t stay here until the campus is officially re-opened.  And anyway, I thought you were driving back to Wisconsin?”

“The campus reopens tomorrow so maybe you can cut me some slack?  And I couldn’t go back to my family.  I just couldn’t.”

“So, you’ve been doing what, exactly?”

“Watching TV and eating noodles and sometimes drinking.”

“You’re drunk right now, aren’t you?”  He asserts, disappointment prominent on his features.

“Probably.”  She shrugs and walks back over to her bed.  “But it doesn’t matter.”

Connor follows her into the room and perches himself on the edge of her mattress.  “What does matter, Charlie?”

“Nothing much.”  She takes a swig from the bottle of wine and focuses her attention on the TV screen.  “Now go away.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”


	8. Chapter 8

_“5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”_

Charlie groans and yanks her pillow over her ears in an effort to block out the exuberant hollering coming from just outside her dorm room.

The clock has just struck twelve, yet she’s been in bed for over an hour already.  And as she lies there, staring at the ceiling in her current, buzzed and morose state, she tries not to ruminate on the fact that she legitimately can’t remember the last time she spent New Year’s Eve like this: alone.

Last year, she and a group of her friends from UC spent New Year’s Eve down at Navy Pier, drinking and dancing and watching the fireworks on Lake Michigan.  It was freezing cold that night, and she still remembers the astronomical hangover she had the next day, but it was undoubtedly worth it.  All that laughter, all that booze, and the company of all her friends - it’s one of her favorite college experiences to date.

Tonight, however, she can’t even bring herself to respond to the Happy New Year texts that keep blowing up her phone.  Tonight, she feels more alone than she has in a very long time.

Of course, she doesn’t _have_ to be alone.  Multiple people had invited her to hang out tonight, including Connor, who was playing a gig at some dive bar on Western Ave. called The Empty Bottle.  He’d insisted that she come to his show, but she’d turned him and everyone else down.

And now here she was: in bed, on New Year’s Eve, drowning in booze and her own misery.

All because she was stupid enough to fall in l—

No. You are _not_ doing that again, she reprimands herself.

The ecstatic yelling outside her door continues, and when it becomes nearly unbearable, she decides she needs another drink.  Pushing back the covers, she gets out of bed and walks across the room to retrieve a beer from her mini-fridge.

Her night crawls along at a torturous pace until eventually, she falls asleep.

 

\---------------

 

Bass sidles up to the bar, finding space between some of the party goers.  He holds up a hand to get the aging bartender’s attention.  “Whiskey,” he says when she looks his way.

“Nice hat,” the old lady smirks as she pours.

“Hat?”  He’d forgotten about the stupid pointy party hat on his head.  Scanlon had slapped it on him as soon as he’d arrived.  Frowning, Bass yanks the hat off and hands it over in exchange for his drink.

“Not in the party mood, I guess?”  The bartender’s smirk has disappeared, and Bass now sees an understanding kindness in her eyes.

“Yeah.  Should have stayed home.”

“I say that every year,” the woman says with a knowing nod before turning away to help another thirsty customer.

Bass stares into his drink.  He really should have stayed home.  This party was the bad idea to top all bad ideas.  

Scanlon had told him that his clients were starting to worry since he hadn’t shown up at the office in a week and wasn’t returning anyone’s phone calls. Bass had eventually agreed to attend this New Year’s party, which was being thrown by one of the city’s most prominent developers - a contact he can’t afford to lose.  

He’s seriously regretting that decision now.

“Hey buddy.  What’s with the mopey face?”

Bass looks up to see his old friend, Jeremy Baker.  He smiles, but his heart isn’t in it.  “Holiday stuff.”

“You got my package, didn’t you?”

“The ornament?”  Bass’s mind flashes to that night when Charlie had helped him decorate the tree.  She’d been so beautiful...so perfect…. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Well, shit.  Must have sent the wrong one if it’s making you sad.”

“No, it’s not that.”  Bass shakes his head.

“I know that expression.”  Baker puts an arm around Bass’s shoulders.  “You need to get laid.  There’s a hot redhead over by the fountain –”

“ _No_.” Bass’s voice is firm, leaving no room for further discussion.  “Not looking for a set up.”

"Well, okay." Jeremy backs off. The look on his face tells Bass that he's not used to seeing his old friend in this kind of funk. “Maybe we can catch a hockey game soon?  Hell, maybe Miles could even fly in and go with us?”

Bass shakes his head.  “Nora’s due next month.  They’re busy.  Talked to him yesterday.  His in-laws and Nora’s sister are all there.”

“Sounds like he needs to get away as much as you could use a night out with friends?”

Bass shrugs.  “Maybe.”

Both men are distracted by a commotion near the door.  Bass feels his heart lurch when he catches a glimpse of long, honey blonde curls.  He stands, craning his neck.  Could it be…?

No.  

When the young woman turns, she most definitely is not Charlie.  

Bass sags back onto his barstool.  He really shouldn’t have come tonight.  He turns to face Jeremy.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Jeremy asks.

“Yeah.  I’m going home.”  Bass runs his fingers through his hair, the curls going awry.

Jeremy pats his friend on the shoulder.  “Happy New Year, Bass.”

Bass stands again.  “You too, Baker,” he says as he turns toward the door with his head down.

 

\---------------

 

Morning comes way too suddenly, and Charlie’s alarm startles her awake.  

“Fuck,” she rasps out.  Her throat is sore, her mouth is dry, and her head feels like someone’s just taken a hammer to it.  She moans in despair and gropes the nightstand for her phone.  

Damn alarm.

No. _Not_ her alarm, she realizes when she tries to turn off the alarm app, only to remember that she never set the alarm in the first place.  Thanks to her hangover, though, it takes her way longer than it should to realize that the noise from her phone is due to the fact that she’s getting a call.

But then, when she actually squints her bloodshot eyes at the caller ID, her pain suddenly becomes irrelevant and her face, for the first time in days, blooms into a genuine smile.

“Hey, Miles,” she answers, voice hoarse but suddenly sunny.

“Hey, Kid,” her uncle greets her from the other end.  Then it seems to dawn on him that it’s still quite early.  “Aw, shit. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah,” Charlie chuckles and settles back down onto her pillow.  “But it’s okay.  You know I always have time for my favorite uncle.”

Miles snorts.  “Yeah, pretty easy to be your favorite when I’m the only uncle you’ve got.”

“Minor detail.”  She shrugs.  “So what’s up?  Is everything okay?  Are Nora and the baby okay?”

Miles is quiet for a second.

“Miles?”

“Seriously?”  He asks, amusement ringing clear in his voice.

Charlie frowns in confusion.  “What?”

Miles snorts again. “Can’t I just call and say hi to my favorite niece?  Without you assuming there’s some emergency?”

“ _Only_ niece,” Charlie corrects in a mocking tone.

“Minor detail,” Miles mocks right back.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

Miles lets out a tired sigh, and Charlie smirks, imagining the grumpy scowl she’s certain he’s currently wearing.

“Everything’s fine,” he says.  “Nora’s great.  The baby’s great.”

“And you?  How are you?” Charlie snickers, her heart all of a sudden feeling lighter than it has in days.

“Oh, you know.  Happier than a pig in shit.”

“Right,” she giggles.

“Anyway, the real reason I’m calling—”

“Ah ha!  See?  I knew you had some other reason—”

Miles groans.  “Will you shut up and let me talk?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Charlie swallows a grin.  “Okay, I’m listening.  Go ahead.”

“Thank you.  So, listen, I just talked to your mom, and...imagine my surprise when she told me you’re in Chicago because you never made it home for Christmas this year.”

Charlie’s smile immediately dissolves.  “Right.  Well, if this is Mom’s way of trying to manipulate me into feeling bad for not going home, you can just tell her to—”

“Jesus, Kid,” Miles interjects, his voice gruff and full of impatience. “Will you listen for two seconds?  I’m bringing it up because _I’m_ currently in Chicago.”

That gets her attention.  “Wait, what?”

Her uncle laughs. “Yeah.  A good friend of mine lives here, so I decided to pop in for a surprise visit.  I’m having lunch with him later, but when I heard you’re still in town, I figured I’d see if you wanted to meet up.”

“Is Nora here too?”

“Nah.  She wasn’t really in the traveling mood.  Understandably so.”

Charlie quirks an eyebrow.  “You left your pregnant wife at home by herself?  What’s wrong with you?”

“Relax,  Miss Twenty Questions.  Nora’s fine.  And she’s not by herself.  Her parents and Mia are staying with us.”

“Oh, got it.  So this is an ‘escape-my-in-laws’ type of trip....”

“No, smartass.  This trip was in the works even before the in-laws announced they were coming,” Miles chortles.  “I just kept it on the downlow because it was supposed to be a surprise for my buddy.  Anyway, what do you think?  Wanna have dinner with me tonight?  On me.  You pick the place.”

Charlie traps her bottom lip between her teeth and is quiet for a while.  A night out?  Tonight? She thinks about everything that that entails - especially the part about having to shower and get dressed and make herself look presentable; none of it sounds even the least bit appealing.  But, at the same time, this is her Uncle Miles.  She hasn’t seen him in almost a year, or maybe even longer, and he is one of her favorite people.  Perhaps some time with family would do her some good.  

Besides.  A real meal wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.  And she is pretty sick of Top Ramen.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah, sorry.  Still here,” she answers.  “Dinner sounds great, Miles.  I’ll figure out where and text you the details?”

“Sounds like a plan.  See you tonight, Kid.”

“See you then.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass walks into Tuman’s and pauses as his eyes adjust to the darkness of the old bar’s interior.  It’s mid-afternoon, and there is a smattering of customers in the shadowy space.  He spots Miles sitting at a corner table and heads his way.  

By the time he reaches the table, Bass is shaking his head.  “So is this what you meant when you said I wouldn’t get my Christmas gift from you till New Year’s?”

His oldest friend grins at him. “Surprise.”

Bass shakes his head again.  “And I see you started without me?”

Miles nods.  “Love the beer cheese soup here and I was hungry.”  He points to the chair across the table.  “Sit.  Told the girl to bring you some when you came in.”

“Not hungry.”  Bass shrugs out of his leather coat and sits down.

Miles stops with his spoon halfway to his mouth.  “Not hungry for beer cheese soup?  Are you sick?”

Bass ignores the question. “How’s Nora?”

Miles narrows his eyes suspiciously.  “She’s beyond miserable, actually.”

“So you left her in her time of need to come see me?”  Bass tries to smile, but the gesture rings hollow.

“Time of need, my ass.  Her mom and Mia fawn over her like she’s the first woman to ever get pregnant.  The way they dote on her? I bet she hasn’t even noticed I’m gone.”

“Well, still.  You didn’t need to come out.”  Bass looks up at the waitress who brings him a steaming bowl of soup and a cold beer.  He smiles at her absently.  “I’m fine.”

"Yeah, you look it," Miles chuckles.  It earns him a glower, but he continues.  “Seriously, what the hell's going on?  When I called you last night to tell you I was in town, you sounded like shit.  And you look like shit now.  What gives?"

“It’s nothing.  I just –” Bass swirls the spoon around in his soup bowl, not meeting Miles’s eyes.  “Nothing.  It’s nothing.”

“You always were a shit liar.  Is it work?”

“Work is good.”

“Your kid?”

“Connor is fine.”

“A woman.”

Bass hesitates and shakes his head.

“Ah, so it is a woman.”  Miles watches Bass thoughtfully.  “Wait, on Christmas Eve, when we talked, you mentioned a woman….”  He frowns, trying to remember.  “A friend of Connor’s, wasn’t she?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, shit.  You fell for a girl your kid’s age?  That’s...I don’t know what that is.”

“It doesn’t matter.  Nothing came of it.  Nothing could.”

“What is that supposed to mean?  Why couldn’t anything come of it?  Was she married?”

“No.  Not married.”  Bass frowns at the thought of Charlie getting married – ever.  “She’s in college.”

“College?  Jesus,” Miles laughs a little, but schools his features when Bass scowls at him. “What then, is she ugly?  Bad lay?”

Bass’s mind flashes back to Charlie: to her goddess-like beauty - those enormous blue eyes and her tumble of long, blonde hair - and her effortless sense of humor.  He recalls the way she made his breath catch, the way she made his heart race.  He remembers the way her body had felt beneath his and the way it felt to be buried inside–  “No,” he says.  “Not ugly and not bad in bed.”

“So, what? It’s just the age thing, then?”

Bass sits back and crosses his arms.  “The age thing is a big deal.”

“That’s bullshit.”  Miles shrugs.  “If a hot piece of co-ed tail is stupid enough to be interested in your old ass, just go with it.  When she gets tired of you, then you can go find someone your own age.  Instead of moping, you should be enjoying yourself while you can.  You worry too fucking much.”

"She's not just some piece of tail, Miles," Bass practically growls, his heart rate increasing as anger flares inside of him.

He's clenching his fists and his knuckles have turned white, he realizes, and none of this has gone unnoticed by Miles.

"Holy shit," Miles says, surprise etched into his features as he sets down his spoon and pushes his empty bowl away. "You love this girl, don't you?"

 

\---------------

 

Giordano’s is packed and buzzes steadily with music and happy conversation: the sound of people enjoying their evening over pizza dinners.  But as Miles sits across the table from his niece, he can’t help but feel a pang of concern.

They’ve been sitting in their booth for about ten minutes, and, aside from the hug and the hello she gave him when she first arrived at the restaurant, Charlie hasn’t spoken much.  

Miles watches as she traces a finger along the red and white checkered tablecloth, a preoccupied frown stuck to her face, her thoughts clearly a million miles away.  But what really concerns Miles is the fact that she ordered water instead of something stronger when the server came around a few minutes ago to take their drink orders.

Miles had even tried cracking a joke about how it wasn’t in a Matheson’s nature to turn down booze - especially when someone else was paying for it, but all he’d gotten was a chuckle from the server and a distracted smile from Charlie.

“Okay,” he finally says, setting his beer mug down a little louder than is necessary in an attempt to recapture her attention.

He succeeds, because she flinches and looks up.

He raises his eyebrows at her.  “You wanna tell me what’s going on?  Or am I supposed to guess what’s bothering you?”

She frowns harder.  “What?  Nothing’s bothering me. I’m f—”

“Nope,” Miles cuts her off, shaking his head.  “Don’t even start with that ‘I’m fine, everything’s fine’ bullshit, because obviously, something’s up.  You’ve hardly said two words since we sat down, and you’re drinking water. _Water_ , Kid.”

“So?”  She counters.  “Water’s good for you.”

“…said no Matheson, ever.”  And then the thought hits him like a slap across the face.  “Fuck, you’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“What?!  No!”  She shrieks, eyes growing wide while her cheeks flame red.  “God, Miles.  Why would you even...?”

“What? It’s a legitimate question,” he responds, unable to contain a smirk.

“Well, I’m _not_ pregnant.  Nor do I have plans to be anytime soon.  I just...don’t feel like drinking tonight. I’ve been doing my fair share of that lately, and I figured it was time for a break.”

“Okay, okay.  So you’re not pregnant,”  Miles surrenders, hoping that she’ll go on to tell him whatever it is that’s actually bothering her.  She doesn’t, so he tries again.  “Look.  You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to, Charlie.  I’m not trying to pry.  But…you if you need to talk, I’m here.  Alright?”

“I know,” she says.  “And I appreciate that, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, fine.  So we’ll talk about other stuff.  Like…what’d you end up doing for Christmas?”

It’s a harmless question, he thinks, but in a matter of seconds, Miles regrets ever asking.  He watches in concerned horror as Charlie looks up and meets his gaze, her big blue eyes suddenly filled with tears.

What the fuck?

“Whoah…hey.  Kid.”  Miles fidgets in his seat, then reaches across the table to place a hand on top of Charlie’s. Seriously, what in the actual fuck?

Charlie breathes in a deep, shaky breath and exhales slowly in a desperate attempt to compose herself.  

It works.

Thank God, Miles thinks, gently pulling his hand away.  Because he doesn’t have even the slightest clue what he’ll do if the kid actually has a melt down.  

This is so unlike her.  She’s usually the type to snark her way through whatever it is that’s bothering her (a trait she picked up from him, he’s been told a time or two).  But this?  This is new.  And _way_ beyond his area of expertise.

“I met someone,” she eventually blurts out, eyes once again glued to the tablecloth.

Well, shit.  Of course, she did.

“You did, huh?”  Miles replies, doing his best to keep his tone casual and unintrusive.  He suddenly _really_ wishes his wife were here.  Nora is way better at dealing with this kind of thing than he is.

Charlie nods and looks up again.  She’s still frowning, but at least she doesn’t look like she’s about to shatter.  “But it’s not going to work out for us.”

Miles is quiet for a while, until he feels it’s safe to ask: “Why not?”

She doesn’t answer.  But she seems to have a better handle on her emotions now, so Miles goes on.

“Seriously, why not?  Is he ugly?” He teases, having a flash of déjá vu.  Jesus, now that he’s thinking about it, this whole conversation is nearly identical to the one he had with Bass earlier today.

“No.” Charlie rolls her eyes, and Miles can’t help but smirk at that.  If nothing else, at least she seems somewhat amused by his antics.  

“He’s….”

“A convicted felon?  No, wait.  I got it.  He’s been signed up by the Bulls and wants to keep a low profile.  Or...he’s in witness protection?”

“ _No_ ,”  Charlie groans and glares at him.  “Will you stop?”  

“Sorry,” Miles chuckles.  “So, he’s what?  What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing. He’s just….”  Her expression becomes uncertain and her gaze drops.  “A little older.”

“Yeah?  So what?  Nora and I aren’t exactly the same age, and things worked out fine for us.”

“Yeah, but…that’s different.”

“Why’s it different?”

Charlie hesitates for a second, biting at her bottom lip.  “He’s…old enough to—” She pauses and shakes her head.  “He’s my friend’s dad.”

Oh, shit.  Miles feels a prickle of apprehension slide down his spine. No fucking way. She can’t be talking about….

Can she?  There’s only one way to find out.

"What's your friend's name, Charlie?"

But, of course, before Charlie can answer, their server chooses that exact moment to reappear.

“Are you both ready to order? Or do you need a couple more minutes?”  The bubbly, twenty-something brunette asks.

“Uh….” Miles clears his throat and looks at Charlie, who in turn gives him a confused look. He shakes his head and smiles at her and then at the server.  “Sorry.  Yeah, we’re ready.”  He turns back to Charlie.  “Order whatever you want.  I’ll just have what you’re having.”

“Okay.” Charlie shrugs and orders a large, deep dish pepperoni pizza to split and a side order of cheesy garlic bread.

“You got it.”  The server scribbles down the order on a notepad before walking away.

“Miles?” Charlie says once it’s just the two of them again. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he croaks out, his suspicion continuing to niggle at the back of his mind.  “Anyway, what’d you say your friend’s name was?  The one you stayed with?”

“His name’s Connor,” she slowly answers.  “Why?  What’s that got to do with anything?”  

A million different thoughts swirl through Miles’s head as realization fully dawns:

Holy fucking shit. _Charlie_ is the co-ed Bass had been all mopey about.

It’s the worst timing in the world - he’s sure of it - but suddenly, Miles feels a rumble of laughter building inside his chest. He sucks in a breath and holds it in an attempt to keep his laughter from erupting - a surprisingly challenging task, he discovers, because….

Well... _seriously_? Charlie and Bass….

 _Charlie_ and _Bass_?

His own niece has somehow fallen for his best friend, and vice versa, and the two of them haven’t figured out that they have any other connection.

How is that even possible?  And what were the odds of them falling for each other in the first place?  Or even meeting the way they did?  Fortuitous shit like that might happen in a small town, maybe, but here?  This is fucking Chicago.  And it’s not like Charlie goes to school at some tiny college. She goes to the University of Chicago, for fuck’s sake.  With a student population size that’s well into the ten-thousands, what were the chances that she’d even meet and become friends with Connor?

Miles releases the breath he’s been holding and shakes his head.  He can feel Charlie’s steady, cynical stare boring into him and has an itch to bombard her with a hundred-some questions, but….   

Maybe all the questions are irrelevant?  Maybe it doesn’t matter how or even why this happened.  The point is, it happened.  Charlie and Bass met; and they fell for each other. Hard, Miles decides, as he considers the way both of them have been acting today.  

And then the thought assails him with crystal clarity: this could be it - the real deal.  The same thing Miles found with Nora.

So what if there’s an age gap?  Whatever’s going on between these two is clearly far more significant than some number.  Regardless of how brief their relationship was, it’s obvious that they’re in deep - hearts and souls completely entangled.

They’re just too stupid to realize it.

Morons, Miles internally grouses.

‘Cause if there’s one thing he knows about his niece and his best friend, it’s that both of these idiots are too stubborn for their own good.  Which means, if they’re going to get through this, it may require some meddling on his part.  And if he’s going to meddle, it’ll have to be soon.  After all, he needs to get home to his wife.  

With his mind made, Miles reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone.  “Listen,” he tells Charlie, who is still staring at him.  “I just remembered I need to make a call.  Sit tight.  I’ll be right back.”

“Umm...okay…?” Charlie narrows her eyes.

He doesn’t say anything more and slides out of the booth, then walks toward the little alcove where the restrooms are located.

 

\---------------

 

“What’s this?”  Bass stares blearily at the business card Connor has handed him.  They are in Bass’s study, where Bass has been trying to review some blueprints.  Under normal circumstances, he might be annoyed to have his son barge in while he’s working, but today he welcomes the interruption.  It’s not like he’s been getting much done anyway.

Connor frowns.  “I’m really worried about you, Dad.  This is maybe someone who can help.”  He motions toward the small card.

“Help me with what?”  Bass takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes, exhaustion slumping his shoulders.

“Getting your shit together, that’s what.” Connor’s concern quickly evolves into frustration.  “I get it.  I do.  You fell for her, and now your heart is broken, but you have to snap out of it.  You can’t go on like this.”

“How do you suggest I snap out of it, Connor?”  Bass grits out.

“You could stop being a stubborn ass.  I’ve begged you to call her and you won’t.”

“Can’t call her.”  He tries to turn his attention back to his blueprints.  “We agreed that this was for the best.”

“I seriously don’t think either of you really thought that through, but whatever.  If you can’t talk to her, talk to someone else.”

“Who should I talk to?”  Bass looks down at the card.  “This Dr. Maggie Foster person?”  His tone is scornful, and he shakes his head.  “What is she, a shrink?”

“She’s a family therapist.  I did a lot of research online.  She’s well regarded….”  Connor trails off when his dad’s cell phone starts to ring.

Bass purses his lips and glares at his son.  “I’m not going to a fucking shrink, Connor.  End of discussion.”

Connor’s cheeks flush with anger, but he bites back his retort and leaves the room, the echo of the slamming door hanging in the study after he leaves.

Bass hits the talk button and growls into his phone without even looking at the display.  “What?”

 

\---------------

 

Miles weaves through the tables and settles down across from Charlie once more.  His glass has been refilled, and he takes a deep drink.  He looks at her - _really_ looks at her.  She’s not a little girl anymore.  Not his little…. No.  She’s a woman: a woman with a broken heart.

He wonders for a moment if he’s done the right thing, but when she glances up and he sees the pain still lingering in her eyes, he knows that he has.  

“Proud of you, Kid.” Miles clears his throat when it cracks slightly.

Charlie tilts her head curiously.  “What was all that about?”

“Nothing.  Hey, our food is here.  Let’s eat.”

As the server delivers a steaming pizza, both Miles and Charlie inhale the enticing aroma of melting mozzarella and spicy pepperoni.  

“Smells so good,” Charlie says with a smile that finally resembles something warm and genuine.  “I haven’t had anything other than noodles all week.”

“That’s no way to live.”  Miles grins before picking up a slice.  “Dig in.”

And Charlie does.

Later, as the last of their dinner dishes are taken away, Miles leans back in his chair, watching her.  

She sighs.  “You’re being weird.  Who did you call earlier?  Nora?  How is she?”

“Nora is fine.  She’s ready to have this baby already, but she’s fine.”  He waves his hand back and forth.  “But enough about me and Nora.  Tell me more about this guy who isn’t at all good enough for you?”

Charlie's eyes go soft, and Miles watches as she momentarily gets lost in her thoughts.  Then she seems to shake herself out of it with a despondent sigh.  “He was more than good enough, Miles.  He was amazing.”

“If he’s so damn amazing, why did he let you walk away?  You’re a goddamned Matheson.  He shouldn’t have let you go.”

“I don’t really want to talk about him, Miles.  That okay?”

Miles watches her for a moment and then shakes his head.  “Nah.  It’s not okay. Jesus, Charlie.  What the hell?  Did this guy actually say that you were too young for him?”

“No, it wasn’t like that.  We tried to figure out a way to make things work,”  Charlie exhales slowly, her gaze downcast.  “We couldn’t do it…our schedules…his work…my classes….”  She bites her lip and blinks rapidly.  “Our lives are just too different.”

Miles leans forward, his gaze focused solely on her.  “And this guy felt the same way?  He didn’t think you guys had a chance?  He wasn’t willing to fight for you?”

“I don’t – I guess I don’t know.  It all happened so fast.  When we said goodbye, we agreed that was it.  Maybe he did want to try to work things out; I just don’t know.”

“Maybe you should ask him what he really wants?”  Miles reaches out and once again and places a hand over hers.  “Or at least tell him how you feel?”

“What’s the point?  I don’t even know that I’ll ever see him again.  I was just probably a holiday fling for him anyway.  I mean, he seemed sincere, but he’s so much older and maybe this sort of thing happens all the time….”

Miles shakes his head as he remembers the pain in Bass’s eyes and the way he’d said Charlie wasn’t just a piece of ass.  “No way would anyone think you’re just a fling, but the only way you’ll ever know is if you find him and tell him how you feel.”

She pulls her hand away from his.  “I appreciate your concern, Dr. Phil, but I just don’t think it will make a difference.  I don’t even have his number.”

Miles cocks an eyebrow and nearly laughs.  “I call bullshit.  Isn’t his kid such a good friend that you just stayed at his house for Christmas?”

“Well, yeah.”  Charlie frowns.  “I could ask Connor, but I don’t want to make things worse.  What if I do talk to him and things don’t get better?  What if I tell him everything and he says ‘no thanks’?”

“Since when are you such a coward?  The Charlie I know would knock down his door and tell him to listen to you.  You have to talk to him, Charlie.”

“Why do you care so much anyway?” She spits back, frustrated.  “You don’t even know this guy.”

“I just….” Miles pauses and licks his lips, choosing his words carefully.  “I just have a feeling.  Call it a hunch.”

Charlie looks at him like he’s lost his mind.  “I don’t know, Miles.  I don’t know anything anymore….”

“Just have a little faith.”

 

\---------------

 

Bass gets to Giordano’s almost an hour after Miles had called and convinced him to meet up for drinks.  Why the hell Miles wanted to meet at a busy pizza joint, of all places, is beyond Bass, but here he is.  When he sees all the people milling about, he almost turns around and leaves.  He’s not at all in the mood to socialize.

But before he can head for the door and make a quick escape, he spots Miles.   Feeling a tug of guilt over the fact that Miles has traveled quite a ways to be here, Bass reluctantly heads in his best friend’s direction.  He’s almost there when he sees that Miles isn’t alone.

Only five feet separate him from the table where Miles is talking to someone.  Bass lets his eyes drift to the someone in question, and as he takes in the sight, his pulse begins to race.  Long, golden curls that just barely brush the curve of her perfect ass – an ass he remembers kissing and stroking and –

Miles looks up and meets his oldest friend’s gaze.  “Hey, brother.  I want you to meet someone.”

Bass takes a shaky step forward, and then another.  His eyes are glued to the woman who looks just like Charlie from behind but can’t possibly be….

And then she turns around.

A spring of emotion wells up inside Bass as those familiar blue orbs lock with his and tack him in place.  

But before Bass can say a word, Miles speaks up.

“Charlie, this is my best and oldest friend, Bass Monroe.  Bass, I’d like you to meet my niece, Charlie Matheson.”

**A/N: And there you have it, folks. The final chapter! But don't worry, there's an epilogue coming to tie everything up! ;) Once again, we know it's well past Christmas, but we appreciate each and every person who decided to stick with us throughout this journey. We've had a blast collaborating with each other and an even bigger blast sharing this story with all of you! If you'd be so kind, drop us a review and let us know how we did. And we hope to have the epilogue posted in the near future. Thanks for reading! ~ Lemon & Romeo **


	9. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, friends, it's finally time to say goodbye to this particular AU. Here's that epilogue we promised! It only took us, oh... _5 months_ to finish a Christmas fic. *rolls eyes* But, regardless of the delays, as we've said all along, we really, truly enjoyed this project. It was a fun challenge to collaborate with each other, and we're deeply appreciative of all the kudos and kind comments you all gave this story! Thanks for giving this fic a chance and for sticking with us this whole time. We hope the epilogue doesn't disappoint! **

**You can expect another Lemon/Romeo collab in the future, and in the meantime, we'll be getting back to our respective works in progress. (And probably some new things we each have in the pipeline as well.... :D) So stay tuned for all of that. As always, we love to hear what you think, so if you have a second or two, drop us a line and let us know what you thought of the epilogue. ~ LemonSupreme & romeokijai**

* * *

 

_**Christmastime; Approximately One Year Later** _

 

_“A winter weather advisory is currently in effect for most of Cook County, as a heavy storm front moves our way from Northern Indiana. Temperatures are expected to be in the low 20s and upper teens, with wind speeds reaching up to 60 miles per hour in some places, and snowfall expected to start in most areas around 5 o’clock this evening.  This means we can expect a white Christmas, folks!  Accumulation is expected to reach up to three feet by—”_

Bass shuts off his car stereo without listening to the rest of the weather report and pulls the Mercedes into his garage.  He’s home three hours earlier than usual, partly due to the inclement weather that’s expected to move through the city this evening and partly because it’s Christmas Eve. But mostly, he’s home early because…well, tonight’s supposed to be a very special night - a night that will change his life forever if everything goes according to plan.

His hand shakes slightly as he shuts off the car’s ignition, and that’s when he realizes just how nervous he actually is.  

“Shake it off, Monroe,” he scolds himself as he grabs his briefcase and heads into the house.

Everything is quiet and still, exactly like he left it this morning. He slips off his shoes and shrugs out of his coat, hanging it in the nearby coat closet, then sets his keys and briefcase down on the kitchen island.

He wonders where she is as he moseys into the living room.  His heart stutters and a smile tugs at his lips when his gaze trails over to his favorite recliner, where he finds his answer.

Charlie is fast asleep in the oversized leather chair, her phone and a hefty textbook sitting on her lap and her expression softened by slumber.  Bass watches, spellbound, as her chest rises and falls in a gentle, steady rhythm, her hair framing her face in angelic, golden waves, and he wonders for a second just how on earth he got so damned lucky to call this beautiful girl his own.  

They’ve been dating for about a year now and living together for about six months, and despite the ups and downs of their relationship (like any relationship), he can’t remember a single other time in his life when he was this overcome with happiness.  

Every challenge has been worth it: everything from the schedule conflicts they’ve had to work through while he tries to manage his busy career and as Charlie tries to juggle grad school, an internship, and a part time job, to the generational differences in opinion that sometimes arise between them, leading to various screaming matches.  But he wouldn’t trade a single part of what they have for anything.  He loves every second that he gets to spend with her.  Loves waking up to her devastatingly beautiful face every morning.  Loves snuggling with her on the couch in the evenings while they read or watch TV or simply talk about their day.  Loves gallivanting around Chicago with her and watching her eyes light up as she takes in the sights and sounds.  Loves kissing and adoring every inch of her perfect, lithe body whenever they make love.  He loves her passion and her sense of humor, her intelligence and her voracious hunger for knowledge.  He even loves the fire that sparks in her eyes when she’s angry or upset and when she’s full on determined to prove him wrong.  Simply put, he loves her.  More than he’s ever loved anyone else.   

He watches her for another moment, cataloging the peaceful image in his mind.  Then he walks over to the recliner and leans down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Rise and shine,” he whispers in her ear, then grins when she stirs awake.

His breath catches when her sleepy blue eyes flutter open and lock with his.  She offers him a lazy, welcoming smile.

“You’re home early,” she says, her voice still scratchy with sleep.

“Yeah.  Wanted to get on the road before the weather got too bad.”  He presses another kiss to her forehead, then a quick one against her lips.  “How’s the studying going?”

Charlie’s face scrunches up.  “Yeah, um…about that….”

Bass chuckles and nods to her textbook.  “Well, can’t say I blame you.   _The Fundamentals of Library & Information Science _ doesn’t sound particularly riveting.”

“You’re telling me.  This shit is really boring.  And to be honest, I don’t even know if it’s what I want to do…or if I’ll even make a good research librarian….”

He smiles at her, knowing that she isn’t actually serious.  They’ve spent many a night lying in bed, talking about what she’d do after graduating with her bachelor's degree, and grad school was always on the table; and, given her intense love for books, it came as no surprise to Bass when Charlie announced several months ago that she wanted to study Library Science at Chicago State University.  

But just in case there’s any real doubt in her mind, he says, “No, Baby, you’ll be amazing at it.  Just like you are at everything you set your mind to.  Just gotta keep plugging away, right?”

“Yeah,” she sighs.  “I guess.”

“But, that said, if it doesn’t get any better, you can always do something else.  You know I’ll back you up on whatever you decide.”

“I know you will.”  She smiles, reaching out to slide her fingers through his hair.  “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”

“Love you, too, Angel,” he replies, leaning in for another kiss.  He moans when their mouths meet, relishing the softness of her plump lips.   

When they pull apart, Bass turns around and notes the enormous, bare Christmas tree sitting in the corner of the living room.   

“Oh, good, the tree is finally here,” he says as he walks over to examine it.  

It almost pains him to see an undecorated tree in _his_ house on Christmas Eve; usually, he would have finished decorating days, if not weeks ago. But this year, due to a busy schedule and other, more important matters that have been occupying his mind, the tree’s been put on the back burner.

Regardless, he’s in no real position to complain. Despite the last minute trip to the tree farm, they, by some miracle, were still able to acquire a phenomenal looking tree. In fact, it’s even bigger and fuller than the one they had last year.

“I can’t wait to decorate it tonight,” Charlie says as she sits up and puts the recliner back into its upright position.  “Are Connor and Vanessa still planning on coming over to help?”

“Yeah, I talked to him a few hours ago.  He said they’re probably going to crash here if the storm gets as bad as the forecast is predicting.  Plus, that way they’ll already be here for presents in the morning.”

“Aw, that’ll be fun.  Oh!  And speaking of decorating the tree….” She gets up from the chair to retrieve a small, square package wrapped in brown paper from the coffee table.  “This came in the mail.”

Bass takes the box from her and stares at it for a second.  He snorts when he sees that the package is from Jeremy.  “Let’s see what kind of damage Baker did this year,” he says as he opens it.

Charlie raises an eyebrow as Bass takes the shiny, silver ornament out of the box and holds it up for their examination.  “Is that…? I mean are those...?”

“Uh huh,” Bass sighs and nods, unable to contain a chuckle.  “Fucking Baker.”  He eyes the ornament warily for a few more seconds, then puts it back in its box and places the item on the side table.  He turns to Charlie with a smile.  “Anyway.  Connor and Vanessa aren’t going to be here for another hour or two.  So I think I’m gonna go downstairs and run on the treadmill for a bit.”

“Or…” Charlie suggests, her voice throaty and mischief as she throws her arms over his shoulders and interlocks her fingers at the nape of his neck. “I have a better idea.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her close.

“Mhm.  A _much_ more fun way for you to burn calories.”

“Hm…I think I could get on board with that.”

She grins wide and releases his neck, and Bass watches as she starts unbuttoning the flannel shirt she’s wearing (one of his shirts, in fact), then pushes it off of her shoulders, letting the garment fall to the floor.  A low, satisfied growl rips from his throat by the time she undoes her bra, pulling it away to reveal her deliciously perky tits.  

“I’m really glad you’re home early,” she says.

“Me too, Baby,” he agrees, pulling her into his arms once more as he crashes his lips down onto hers.

 

\---------------

 

It’s just barely starting to snow when Connor pulls his SUV into his dad’s driveway and shuts off the ignition.  He exhales a weighted breath and leans back in his seat, staring out at the house he called home for over a decade.

He loves this house and is suddenly floored by all the memories he made in it over the years.    

“Babe?  You okay?”  Vanessa’s question nudges him out of his reverie.

Connor turns to his girlfriend and smiles.  “I’m fine.  Just thinking.”

She smiles back and pats his arm.  “It’s going to be okay.  Your dad’s going to understand.”

“I know but….  It’s always been me and him.  Always.”

Vanessa takes his hand and interlocks her fingers with his.  “He did fine when you moved out last summer.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause I moved a whopping five miles away.”

“Still.”  Vanessa shrugs.  “This will only be for a year, and it’s not like we can’t come back and visit.  Besides, your dad has always been really supportive of your music.  He and Charlie always come to your gigs.  He paid for that recording session….”

“I know, but this isn’t just a recording session.  This is London for twelve months.  I’m not sure he’s going to support this.”

“You’re nuts.  I think he’s going to be excited for you.”

“Maybe.  But I just don’t want him to be sad or lonely or whatever.”

The next thing he knows, Vanessa is laughing at him.

Connor frowns.  “What?”

She gives him an amused look. “Are you serious right now?”

“About what?”

“I know you love your dad, but you’re not giving him enough credit.  Or Charlie, for that matter.  I mean, have you even seen them together?  I honestly doubt he’s even a little bit lonely with her around.”

Connor frowns again.  

“Seriously, you’re making him sound like some pathetic hermit.  That’s not the Bass Monroe I’ve gotten to know.”

“You might be right,” Connor sighs.  “But maybe I should wait to tell him?  It’s Christmas.  This is Dad’s favorite holiday.  I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“He’s a big boy, Connor.  Pretty sure he can handle it.  But….” Vanessa gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You do what you need to do.  I just think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”

“Ok,” he agrees, leaning over to plant a kiss against Vanessa’s lips.  “I’ll tell him tonight.”

They get out of the SUV, and Connor wraps his arm around Vanessa’s shoulder as they walk up the front steps.  She leans up and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.  “It’s going to be okay.  I have a good feeling about this.”

As they walk through the front door, Connor calls out: “Dad?  Charlie?  We’re here.”

There’s no answer, so they toss their bags on the sofa and make their way through the great room.  

Vanessa points at the empty tree.  “Should we get started with the decorating?”

Connor shakes his head.  “No way.  Whether or not Dad will be okay with me going to London for a year, I know for a _fact_ that if we start decorating his precious tree without him, he’s likely to write me out of his will.”

Vanessa laughs. “You two are so weird about Christmas.”

They continue on down the hallway and are still chuckling when Connor opens the door to his dad’s study.  

“Hey, Dad?  You in here?  We’re—”

His eyes bug out and he can feel the color draining from his face as he takes in the sight before him:

There is Charlie: stark naked and bent over the big oak desk in the middle of the room.  Bass is behind her, also naked except for his reading glasses.  His mouth is slightly open and his eyes are half closed as he digs his fingers into Charlie’s bare hips.  Charlie is panting as her body jerks with each of Bass’s thrusts.  

“Oh shit,” Connor splutters. _Close the fucking door, you idiot_ , his brain fires, but in his trauma, he is frozen in place.

Charlie glances up, breathless but glaring.  “Go away, Connor!”

“Get out,” his dad growls a second later.  “And shut the door behind you.”

“Yeah - uh - yeah.”  Connor turns, finally yanking the door closed, and slams into Vanessa.  “We have to - we gotta….”

“What?” Vanessa asks, confused.  

“We have to go,” he swallows, his cheeks burning.  “In fact, we should just skip Christmas all together and go to London now.  ‘Cause I don’t know that I can ever face either of them again.”

 

\---------------

 

They’re still in the study and have barely finished dressing when they hear Andy Williams’s _It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year_ blaring from the living room.

Charlie snickers at the thought of Connor using the song to muffle the noises coming from the study as she puts her shirt back on and buttons it up.  She knows she should be mortified by what just happened a few moments ago, but honestly?  She’s just too thoroughly fucked to care.

“Damn kid,” Bass grumbles as he buckles his belt and adjusts his shirt.  He steps behind Charlie and slides his hands across her stomach, pulling her back into him.  “He couldn’t knock on the door?  Or ring the doorbell?  Like a normal person?”

“Hey, that’s your fault for letting him keep his house key after he moved out,” she teases, then moans when Bass bites down on her earlobe.

“Mm…I suppose you’re right,” he mumbles, his hot breath washing over her skin.  “My bad.”

Her eyes flutter shut as warm pleasure assaults her all over again, and she melts into Bass’s possessive embrace.  But then, somehow, she musters up enough self-control to pull away.  “Stop that.  Otherwise, we’ll never make it out of here.  And your tree will never get decorated.”

He sighs and reluctantly lets go of her, then pushes his fingers through his already-mussed hair.

Sex hair, Charlie giggles to herself, taking a second to also appreciate his flushed skin.  She loves it when he looks completely debauched.

“What?” He chuckles.

“Nothing.”  She shakes her head and offers him her hand.  “Come on.”

They leave the study hand in hand and walk into the living room, where they find Connor and Vanessa huddled together on the couch, both of them deeply engrossed in something on Connor’s phone.  Or maybe they’re just acting like they’re engrossed, Charlie suspects.

Bass clears his throat, which causes Connor and Vanessa to finally look up.

“Are you guys hungry?” He asks.

“Not really,” Connor answers.  “But I’ll bet you are,” he mutters quietly, then rolls his eyes at Vanessa, who in turns tries to hide a smile.

“What?”  Bass questions, having missed the whole exchange.

Charlie bites her bottom lip and watches as Vanessa jumps in.

“Actually, we ate on the way here.  But thank you.  Anyway, we’re excited to help decorate the tree.”

“Speak for yourself,” Connor grumps out, which earns him a smack on the back of his head from Vanessa.

Charlie can’t help but laugh as she walks around the couch and plops down next to Connor.  She bumps his shoulder with her own.  “I’ve missed you, you adorable smartass.”

Connor smirks.  “Uh huh.  Sure, you have.”

“I have, Dummy,” she insists with a chuckle.

They end up chatting for a few minutes about the perils of grad school and about Connor’s band.  Bass disappears upstairs for a bit to retrieve the Christmas decorations from the attic while Vanessa goes on to tell Charlie about the band’s new drummer, who, according to Vanessa, is “really fucking cute.”

“What?  Stop looking at me like that.  I’m allowed to appreciate other hot guys,”  she snickers when Connor pouts at her.  She reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair, messing up his chocolate-colored curls.  “Don’t worry, I still think you’re cuter.”

Connor narrows his eyes but is unable to contain a smirk.

“Okay, you guys ready to do this?”  Bass calls out as he walks into the room with an enormous box of decorations in his hands.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Connor grouses.  He looks at Vanessa and frowns.  “Prepare yourself for a night of torture.”

“Only if you’re Connor,” Charlie assures her with a smug grin.  “We, on the other hand, are in for the time of our lives.”

The evening is filled with music and laughter and several rounds of holiday drinks, and it goes on without a hitch.  Charlie decides that this year’s decorating festivities are even better than last year’s.  She and Vanessa spend most of their time keeping a running commentary on Bass and Connor’s decorating skills, and, as per usual, Bass takes every opportunity he can to tease his son in front of Vanessa.  Connor whines and groans but, overall, is a good sport about the whole thing and even lends a hand in the decorating this time, instead of running off to play the piano.  Before they know it, the tree is almost done.

As Bass hangs the final ornament, Charlie steps back and studies their work.  She smiles wide, enamored by the giant noble fir in all its decked out, twinkling glory.  It’s huge and colorful and busy and perfect.  

Well, not completely perfect, she concludes when she looks more closely and notices that there’s one ornament missing.

“Wait, where’s my…?”  She walks over to the box and peers in, spotting the one she wants.  It’s the only one left in the box, and she grins and reaches in to grab the stained glass ornament she gave Bass for Christmas last year.

…then nearly drops the fragile item when she spots it.

Tied to the top of the ornament is a bright red, satin ribbon.

And attached to the red ribbon is a dazzling diamond engagement ring.

She clutches the ornament and whips around, her eyes wide and full of question as they meet Bass’s gaze.  But a million new questions rush through her head when she watches him get down on one knee next to the tree, a knowing smile stretching his face as he extends a hand toward her.

“What are you doing?”  She shrieks, her mind and heart racing.

“What’s it look like?”  Bass winks.  “Come over here.”

His eyes are brighter and bluer than ever and already wet with emotion by the time she reaches him, and she’s so overwhelmed in that moment - her heart hammering and her entire body shaking - that it hardly registers when he takes the ornament from her hand and unties the ribbon.

He hangs the ornament on the nearest branch and reaches for her hand while holding up the ring with his other hand.  

“Charlotte….”

All it takes is her name leaving his lips, and Charlie bursts into tears.  But she’s laughing, she realizes.  Laughing and crying, and so entirely overcome.  And she’s nodding.  Furiously.  He hasn’t even asked the goddamned question yet, but she already knows; the answer is yes.

 _Breathe_ .  You have to _breathe_ , she reminds herself, dragging in a deep breath.

“Charlotte, that night at Giordano’s…” Bass says, mirroring her actions and sucking in a lungful of air, then slowly exhaling it. “The second I saw you, I just knew.  I knew I’d fallen hard for you.  That I loved you.  And later that night, when we talked, and then when I kissed you…nothing had ever felt so right.  I knew right then and there that this was meant to be, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.  Which, I realize sounds crazy, since we barely knew each other.  But the thing is, Baby.  This past year with you has only solidified that feeling.  I love you, Charlie.  More and more every day.  So…will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She sobs, dropping to her knees in front of him and letting him slip the diamond onto her finger before she tackles him.  His back hits the floor with a thud, and she straddles his waist before smashing her mouth into his.

Her heart feels like it’s about to burst right out of her chest as she kisses the man she loves like she’s never kissed him before.  And as her tongue entwines with his and his arms circle around her, she can’t help but wonder how she got so lucky.

“Jesus, you guys!  I know you’re happy, but no one asked you to start making out right here, under the Christmas tree.”

It’s Connor’s obnoxious comment that yanks Charlie back to the present moment, reminding her and Bass that they’re not the only ones in the room.  For a second, she’d legitimately forgotten.

They’re laughing, and both of their faces are flushed as they break the kiss and stare back in a daze at Vanessa and Connor from their spot on the floor.

“Smile!” Vanessa says, her face beaming with excitement as she holds up her phone to snap a picture.

Connor stands at her side with his arms crossed over his chest.  He tries to act like he’s annoyed, but the expression on his face is clear: if anything, he’s happy and proud.

Charlie sighs and turns her attention to the glittering ring on her finger and then to the man beneath her: his eye-crinkling smile, his kiss-bruised lips, and his impossibly blue eyes, so full of love and devotion, sparkling under the light of the Christmas tree.  

“I love you,” she tells him.

Bass reaches up and pushes a few stray hairs away from her tear-soaked cheeks.  “And I love you. So much, Baby.”   

Another tear rolls down her face as Charlie bursts into laughter again, her heart trembling with a kind of joy she’s never known. She licks her lips and stares hungrily at Bass’s mouth.   

“Oh my God, they’re gonna kiss again, aren’t they?” Connor groans.

“Shut up, Connor,” Charlie quips, giggling, then lowers her lips to her fiancé’s.

 

\---------------

 

Charlie wakes up on Christmas morning with a wide grin on her face.  She snuggles into Bass’s embrace.  “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

He chuckles and kisses her temple.  “Not a dream.  We’re really getting married.”

“We’re really getting married,” she repeats reverently, staring down at the lustrous rock on her finger.  

The one-carat, cushion-cut diamond sits atop a white gold band and shimmers brilliantly as Charlie wiggles the fingers on her left hand.  She’d never really put any serious thought into what she’d want her engagement ring to look like, but now that she has one, she’s completely in love with it.

Suddenly struck by a thought, she pulls away from Bass, supporting her weight on one elbow.  “When are we getting married?”

Bass shrugs.  “I don’t know.  Next month?  Next year?  Tomorrow?”  He dodges when she attempts to hit him with a pillow.  Grabbing her wrist, he pulls her back to his chest.  “I don’t care when.  Only thing that matters to me is that you said yes.”

“As if there was ever any question.”

“Hey, I was nervous.  Even though Miles had assured me it would work out, I was still a wreck.”

“You told Miles?” She arches a brow.

“Well, yeah.  Talked to your folks too.  I wanted to have their blessing.”

Charlie shakes her head and smirks.  “God, you’re old – uh, I mean...old-fashioned.”

He tackles and rolls until she’s trapped below him.  “Shut up and kiss me.  We only have an hour or so before Miles and Nora get here with the baby.”

She leans up and presses her lips to his.  “I’m pretty sure that means we have time for more than just a kiss.”

 

\---------------

 

It’s closer to two hours later when Miles and Nora stumble through the front door, arms full of presents and diaper bags and of course, baby Roland.  

“Honey, we’re home!” Miles yells, unceremoniously dumping everything but the baby on the floor in the entry.

Connor greets them first.  “Dad will be down in a few minutes, I think.  He, uh… got delayed?”

“Don’t care,” Miles growls.  “Stop talking and bring me a whiskey.”

“Whiskey?  Now?  It’s only mid-morning,” Connor points out.

“Once again. Don’t care,” Miles repeats, then abruptly hands the squirming toddler to Vanessa, who has just walked over to stand behind Connor.  “You like kids, right?”  Miles asks but doesn’t wait for an answer.  He struts into the living room and sprawls out on the sofa, closing his eyes.

Vanessa nods as Roland’s chubby little fingers grab at her nose. “Well, I definitely like this little guy.  Maybe even more than I like Connor.”

“Hey.” Connor frowns at his girlfriend.

“Just kidding.” Vanessa giggles as Connor retreats into the kitchen to get Miles his whiskey.

Nora chuckles, then leans down and kisses her son on the temple before turning tired eyes on the younger girl.  “Well, this little guy _hates_ car rides and screamed most of the way here.”  She pats her son on the back and then finds a place on the sofa next to Miles before yelling after Connor, “Pour me one too, Kid!”

 

\---------------

 

When Charlie and Bass eventually make their way downstairs, they find an amused Connor sitting on the edge of the coffee table.  He’s watching Miles and Nora who are sleeping in an exhausted tangle on the couch.  In both hands he holds untouched glasses of whiskey.  “I’ve never seen anybody fall asleep like this before,” he says.

Miles chooses that moment to begin snoring loudly.  

Vanessa sits in the recliner, bouncing the baby on her lap, and when Charlie spots her baby cousin, she squeals and runs over.  

Bass leans down and takes one of the whiskeys from his son.  He takes a drink and nods down at his best friend.  “Clearly they need some sleep.  Let’s all go in the kitchen.  Babies probably like to eat German doughnuts, right?”

Connor stands and follows his dad, taking a drink from the other glass.  “Assuming Charlie didn’t already eat them all, that is.”

Charlie smiles as she kisses baby Roland’s dimpled cheeks.  “Tell Uncle Connor not to be a dick head,” she says in a singsong voice.

Connor laughs, shaking his head.  “Watch your language around the baby, Charlie.”

Bass chuckles. “Connor, this is Miles Matheson’s kid.  Pretty sure he’s heard the word dick before; hell, it’ll probably end up being his first word.”

“Good point.” Connor grins as he opens a cupboard to find a half-full bag of German Christmas doughnuts.

 

\---------------

 

“Are you sure I can’t help?”  Bass hollers from the living room, several hours later.  

“No!  I got this!” Charlie yells back.

Bass shakes his head and looks at Miles.  He had every intention of making Christmas dinner again this year, but Charlie surprised him by deciding that she would take the lead on the holiday meal instead.

She’d then enlisted Nora and Vanessa to help her, and Connor had wandered off to play the piano, which left Bass and Miles in the living room, parked on the couch, whiskey glasses in hand.

“So she really said yes?” Miles teases his best friend.

“Hell, yeah.  She said yes.”  Bass takes a sip from his glass.  “I’m happy, Miles.  Don’t know that I’ve ever been this happy.”

“Pretty sure she feels the same way, Bass.”

Bass starts to say something in response, but is interrupted by the sound of Nora’s voice coming from the kitchen.  “Are you watching the baby?”

“Yes, Dear,” Miles responds over his shoulder, then turns toward Bass and rolls his eyes.  “I think they call that _helicopter parenting_.”

Bass chuckles and nods toward Roland, who is now toddling toward the tree.  “Pretty sure what she’s doing is just regular parenting.  Might want to corral your spawn, Miles.”

“Shit.” Miles stands and moves toward Roland, but not before his fat little fingers have wrapped around an ornament on a lower branch.  

Within seconds, the shiny item is off the tree and in Roland’s mouth.

“Give me that,” Miles says, gingerly removing the silver ornament from his son’s slobbery fingers.  He picks up the fidgety toddler and stares at the ornament, which is now slippery with spit.  “What in the hell is this?”

Bass narrows his eyes as he focuses on the ornament in question.  “Oh, Baker sent me that one.  He sends me an ornament every year, and that’s this year’s addition.  They’re silver bells, except, you know….boobs.”  He shrugs with a grin.

“Silver boobs?”  Miles shakes his head and smiles proudly.  “Of all the ornaments within reach, Ro picked this one.  Guess nobody can say this isn’t my kid.”

Nora swoops in, pulling the little boy into her arms and kissing a chubby cheek.  “Yeah, we all get it.  Matheson men love boobs.  Now put the silver ones back on the tree.  Dinner is ready.”

They migrate into the dining room, where the table is set with the Monroe Family china.  A candelabra of white tapers sits in the center.  Steaming dishes litter the tabletop, and the air smells like heaven.  As everyone finds their seats, the conversation remains lively and laughter echoes all around.

Charlie taps a wine glass with her spoon to get everyone’s attention.  When all eyes are on her, she nods to Bass.  “Will you make a toast?”

Bass lifts his glass and slowly scans the room.  He sees his son, grinning down at his beautiful girlfriend.   He sees his best friend since childhood, now with a wife and a child of his own.  And then his gaze falls on the love of his life and his soon-to-be bride.

Charlie looks stunning, as always. Tonight, she’s wearing a wine red, scooped-neck sweater over a pair of black skinny jeans, and her hair is twisted into an elegant side braid.  The smile on her face is as radiant as the diamond on her finger.

“Ahem,” Miles clears his throat. “Any day now, Bass.”

Everyone snickers while Bass throws his friend an unamused glare.

Bass sighs. “Today, we celebrate Christmas, which, as you know, is my favorite holiday.”

“No... _really_?” Connor gasps, eliciting nods and chuckles from around the table.

“Anyway….” Bass narrows his eyes at his son. “Today we don’t just celebrate Christmas.  Today we also celebrate family.”  He looks at Connor, his gaze softened by proud admiration this time.  “Family is our blood.”  He looks at Miles next.  “Family is the friendship that has survived the test of time.”  Finally, he looks at Charlie and the smile on his face grows wide.  “And family is what we make of it.  We make it when we fall in love and when we overcome obstacles and when we find happiness, together.  I’m happy that you are my family.  Love all you guys.”

“And Merry Christmas!”  Charlie adds, her voice quivering ever so slightly with emotion.

“Merry Christmas!”  Bass echoes, his eyes locked on hers.

**\- THE END -**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! We would love to hear what you think, so if you have a sec, please leave a review!


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